


Misadventures of Jedi Generals

by Cuthalion97



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Family, Gen, Humor, Jedi and Clones wreaking havoc on the galaxy at large, Overall insanity, no romantic relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuthalion97/pseuds/Cuthalion97
Summary: Chapter 1: Anakin has amnesia. Rex and Cody try to get him to medbay.Chapter 2: Anakin is extremely tired. So are Windu, Rex, and Ponds. Anakin needs caf. So do Windu, Rex, and Ponds. Unfortunately, there is only one box.Chapter 3: Rex and Anakin go to assist Kit Fisto and Commander Monnk. The two generals are confined to medbay. They are inspired by a prank the junior medic plays on the senior medic.Chapter 4: Obi-Wan accidentally inhales a compound that causes him to act - less than discreet. Plo Koon is Very Amused. Cody and Wolffe are Unamused. Obi-Wan is Oblivious.Chapter 5: The saga of Oblivious Obi-Wan and Unamused Cody continues.Chapter 6: Fox receives a recording from Cody, while trying to deal with Jedi Master Yoda, Wookiees, and his men.Chapter 7: Quinlan Vos makes his way through the Jedi Temple, the Senate, and meets up with Delta Squad, sowing chaos in his wake.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CC-1010 | Fox & CC-3636 | Wolffe, CC-2224 | Cody & Anakin Skywalker, CC-2224 | Cody & CC-3636 | Wolffe, CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-6454 | Ponds & Mace Windu, CT-5597 | Jesse & CT-6116 | Kix, CT-6116 | Kix & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Captain Rex and Commander Monnk, Coruscant Guard & 104th, Kit Fisto & Anakin Skywalker, Kit Fisto & Monnk, No Romantic Relationship(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Plo Koon & CC-3636 | Wolffe, Plo Koon and Obi-Wan, Quinlan Vos and Delta Squad, RC-1138 | Delta-38 | Boss & RC-1140 | Delta-40 | Fixer & RC-1262 | Delta-62 | Scorch & RC-1207 | Sev
Comments: 141
Kudos: 608





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The situation at the beginning is that Rex and Ahsoka basically volunteered Cody for 'Anakin guard duty' and Obi-Wan casually let them. Cody and Obi-Wan picked up the other clones in a shuttle and landed on Anakin's flagship, so they're alone amidst a bunch of 501st guys.

"Landing now, General Kenobi," reported the pilot, turning his head.

Obi-Wan nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Crash."

"Crash?" Ahsoka clamped her mouth shut after her surprised outburst, and Cody gave her a dry look – with his helmet still in place. It was actually rather impressive. He must be upset about being volunteered for 'make-Anakin-stay-in-his-quarters' duty.

"Yes, sir," said Crash cheerfully. "I had to crash-land my first time out. Vulture droid slammed into the gunship."

"Well, thank goodness you landed." Ahsoka glanced at her master as the ship settled into the hangar bay with a light thump. "Skyguy, ready to go?"

"Where are we going?"

"Just to your quarters," she said, grinning at Cody, who was making himself as inauspicious as possible. It didn't really work, since he was the only clone with yellow armor in a group of clones with blue.

Tup and Crawl helped Charger out and headed for medbay right away.

Obi-Wan sprang out after them and straightened his robes. "Well, I see you have this handled, Cody."

". . . Of course, sir." Cody's obedient answer was a bit forced, and Obi-Wan must have heard it, because he smirked.

Anakin waved cheerfully at him. "Thanks for coming to get us, General Kenobi."

There was a long pause as everyone processed the very un-General-Skywalkerish words, and then Obi-Wan nodded graciously. "Of course. Skyguy."

The sudden cough that Rex gave might have been from the chilly air, but somehow Ahsoka doubted it. "Well," she said brightly. "I'm off to get something to eat."

It was shirking her duty as a padawan, and she knew it; but then, Master Kenobi was shirking his duty as a general and as a master, so. . .

"Okay," her own master said. "See you later, Commander Snips."

Ahsoka glared at Rex and repeated to herself the mantra Jedi do not seek revenge five times. It was hard to do, since Master Kenobi was chortling to himself, but she finally succeeded. Feeling proud of herself, she sauntered off to the mess hall, leaving Cody and Rex standing on the boarding ramp with her master.

"So. . ." said Cody, glancing at Rex. "Medbay first."

"Eh, good luck." Rex started down the boarding ramp. "Oz, Ringo, help the commander out and –"

"No," said Cody, taking his helmet off and moving to block Rex's escape. "I might not outrank Commander Tano . . . or General Kenobi. . . but I outrank you, Rex, old boy."

Rex started in surprise. Cody never pulled rank unless in an emergency situation where he had to work with difficult subordinates. In a flash of insight, he understood. This is an emergency situation with . . . well, I wouldn't say I'm difficult, exactly, but . . . Rex thought. Eh, who am I kidding. I'm being difficult.

He acknowledged the fact and did nothing to change his attitude. Instead, he thought quickly, hoping for a way out. Cody's eyes bore into his, and Rex adopted his 'blank' expression. The battle of wills went on for approximately thirty seconds, with neither clone looking away.

Then Anakin slung an arm over his captain's shoulders and said, "Come on, guys, let's get something to eat. I'm starved."

Rex jolted in surprise. Cody smirked maliciously.

"Uh," said Rex. "Sir, the medics have to check you out first. You can't eat with a head injury."

"Medics?" Anakin froze, and an uncertain frown crossed his face. "Wait. I think I don't like medics."

Cody facepalmed. "Of all things for him to remember."

"Captain Rex, if you don't need us anymore. . ." Oz sidled away, Ringo mirroring his movements on the other side of the ramp.

Rex sighed loudly. "Dismissed."

They turned in perfect synchronization and vanished into the hall, rather more quickly than they usually did. Rex found he couldn't really blame them. They'd been present during the last round of amnesia.

Crash had already disappeared as well, which was odd. Pilots usually tended to hang around for a post-flight checkout of their ships. Oh, wait. He'd been around last time, too. A lot of strange things had happened.

Anakin seemed to reach a conclusion just then, because he released Rex and sprang down the ramp. He nearly fell over as he landed, but straightened quickly. "We've got to get out of here. Rex! Cody! Where do they keep the medics?"

"In storage," lied Rex.

"Where's that?"

Rex pointed in the general direction of the hold, which just so happened to be opposite to the medbay. Convenient.

General Skywalker wavered, then turned and started walking away from the hold at top speed.

Cody watched him vanish around the corner. "Good thinking. I guess we should go after him."

Rex grunted. "You first, Commander."

They started after the Jedi at a casual walk.

Something in the hallway slammed into the ground with terrific force, and a metallic clang reverberated throughout the ship. The two clones broke into a run and entered the hall to see Anakin doubled over, one hand against his face.

"General?" said Rex, not too concerned. He was probably feeling the effects of his head injury.

"I thig I'b sig," mumbled Anakin.

Cody lowered his gun. "Could you repeat that, sir?"

"Yub." Anakin looked up at him and lowered his hand. "I thig I'b sig."

"I think," said Rex slowly. "He's saying 'I think I'm sick'."

"Yeah, gathered that." Cody glanced down the hall and narrowed his eyes. "What I'm wondering is why that storage unit has fallen over."

Rex shrugged. The 501st had seen no action for two days. It could be anything, up to and including Fives and Echo testing out their superiors' reflexes. Scratch that. Fives, maybe. Echo would just be busy trying to keep Fives out of trouble.

Anakin suddenly sneezed. At the other end of the hall, another storage unit tipped over.

Cody and Rex rotated toward each other in shock and concern.

"Rex," said Cody, in tones of quiet panic. "There was no one near that storage unit, was there?"

"Hate to tell you this, but no," said Rex, fighting back memories of the last time this had happened. "Uh, the general, he, uh."

He gestured vaguely. Cody shut his eyes and set his helmet carefully on another shelf. "Rex. Is he unintentionally using the Force?"

". . . Yeah."

"Did General Kenobi, by any chance, know about this – tendency – of General Skywalker's?"

". . . No."

"But this has happened before?"

". . . Yeah."

"And you didn't report it?"  
". . . No."

This entire time, Anakin had been sauntering back and forth, examining the plain walls with great interest. Now he stopped. "Well, this is boring."

His voice was back to normal, thankfully. Not sick, then. Apart from a very obvious head injury. . .

Anakin walked over, stopped in front of Cody, and stared thoughtfully at him. "Are you hurt?"

"NO," said Cody, but his eyes were squinted against a headache.

Rex sympathized, really he did. "General, come with us."

"This hallway's boring," Anakin told him seriously. "Is the whole ship like this?"

"Of course not, sir." Rex had a brilliant idea. "Actually, there's a very interesting room just a short distance from here. It's got, uh. Lights and stuff."

Anakin looked confused.

"Machines," Rex supplied. "You like machines, sir."

"Really?" Anakin brightened. "Like ship engines?"

"Sort of," Rex answered, casually slipping a hand beneath Anakin's right elbow while Cody took his left. "And there are even some droids there."  
"Let's destroy them!" hollered Anakin, reaching for his lightsaber, which thank the Force was not there. Ahsoka must have hidden it.

"No, General!" said Cody sharply as Anakin made to run off. "These aren't enemy droids. They're just. . ."

He slanted a sideways look at Rex, waiting for him to replace 'medical droids' with something safer. Rex rose to the challenge. "Helper droids."

Cody didn't seem impressed, but Anakin relaxed. "Oh, okay."

They walked past the mess hall, and Rex considered diving through the sliding doors and abandoning Cody.  
"Don't. You. Dare." The snarl hadn't even sounded like Cody, but it was.

Kriff.

"Come on, Cody," said Anakin cheerfully. "Relax."

That, at least, sounded like the general – though he didn't usually talk to Cody like that. They entered the lift, and Rex turned Anakin toward the far wall so he couldn't see Cody press the button for the medbay deck where Kix worked.

"Where are we going?" said Anakin.

Neither clone answered.

"Well, okay, if you want it to be a surprise." Now Anakin sounded grumpy.

A surprise? Medbay surprising the general?

All sorts of horrible pictures arose in Rex's imagination. A general with battle-honed instincts, who was also a powerful Jedi who could access the Force unintentionally, being unhappily surprised –

Oh, no. NO.

Cody, his mouth set in a grim line, reached behind Anakin's back and drew one of Rex's pistols, putting it on stun.

Rex jumped for the lift controls, hoping against hope – he could stop it in time –

Too late. The doors sprang open.

Anakin peered interestedly out. "Hey, this looks – familiar –"

Kix came out of the entrance to medbay, dressed in his grey fatigues. "Hey, Rex, what's up?"

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" shouted Anakin, leaping from the lift. "Rex! Cody! How could you betray me?"

Cody lifted his gun. "Stand down, general."

"Cody, no –"

Rex got no further. Anakin sprang forward, kicked the gun from Cody's hand, drew Rex's free gun, threw both weapons in the lift, and hit the button, sending the lift off to who-knew-where. Rex made a mental note to put a ship-wide alert out for them. If any of the guys swiped them, they'd be on KP for a month.

Cody tried to force Anakin towards the ground. Anakin put him in an armlock. Cody swept his feet out from under him, and they went down in a tangle.

Under normal circumstances, Rex would have been very interested to see how Cody, a master of hand-to-hand, fared against a Force-sensitive like General Skywalker, but now was probably not a good time.

"Kix," he said. "Remember that mission to Vinnda Prime?"

Kix shut his eyes, went to the commstation, and said, "Jesse? Keep the other guys out of medbay level B."

"Well, I'll try, but Fives just –"

Cody grunted and Anakin yelped. Rex glanced down at them and grabbed Anakin's arm, pulling him off of Cody.

On the other side of the room, Kix shut his eyes in exasperation. "Jesse, I don't care. Take 'em to level A instead. And next time don't test grenades in the gym."

Rex whipped his head up so fast his neck cracked. "Kix?"

"No." The medic slapped the comm off. "You can get details later. Help me subdue him."

Anakin shoved Cody away and got up, his arms stretched to either side. "YOU!"

Kix's face grew cold. "Yes, General. Me."

And there went any hopes Rex might have had of resolving this without fatalities.

Anakin jumped towards Kix, and the medic slipped out of the way and put him in an armlock. Anakin shouted in fury, broke free, and rushed into medbay.

"Don't worry," Kix said, opening one of the four storage pouches on his belt and withdrawing a hypo. "No injured or sick in there."

They entered the medical bay in a rush. Anakin was standing in the middle of the room, swaying uncertainly, and the shelves of the storage cabinet were empty, the medical supplies scattered across the entire room. "I'm – dizzy –"

He sneezed. All the blankets and pillows in the room flew into the air and sailed across the room into the far wall. Kix walked forward, Rex and Cody automatically falling back to flank him.

Anakin dropped to his knees. Maybe he'd pass out on his own. . . Not likely.

"General," said Cody, holding out a hand placatingly. "Let us help you."

"NO!" Anakin shouted, struggling to his feet.

"Nice going, Cody," Rex muttered.

"Next time, warn me. I'd have shot him a lot earlier."

"Cody –!"

Anakin had heard. He lunged at Cody again, tackling him flat to the ground. Kix and Rex had no chance to go to his aid, because now the blankets and pillows rushed in their direction, tangling around their legs and arms and dragging them to the ground. Rolls of bandaging and sealed bacta patches flew every which way.

This had got to be one of the weirder situations Rex had been in.

Cody shoved Anakin's head against the ground, and Kix hollered at him to stop injuring the patient. The next instant, he was jerked into the air by about five blankets and tossed toward the nearest bed. Rex found himself literally hovering in mid-air.

"Cody!" yelled Rex, shouting through a blanket that had wound about his head and mouth. "Give in!"

Cody had already done so – that, or he'd been knocked out. Anakin stared down at his defeated opponent for a moment and got to his feet. He stared at Rex in utter confusion. "Why are you in the air?"

"Because I like it here," said Rex, desperate to distract him from Kix, who was now army-crawling beneath the beds, trying to get to Anakin. "You should try it, General."

"I don't think I can," Anakin mused, apparently forgetting that he was still in the hated medbay. "I – ah-choo!"

Rex hunched his shoulders and waited. The blankets yanked him across the room and pinned him to the main desk.

Cody flipped onto his stomach and grabbed Anakin's ankles, jerking so that he fell flat. Kix, in a move that proved his gymnastic abilities beyond all doubt, rolled out from under the nearest bed, vaulted onto his feet without using his hands, and stabbed the hypo into the general's neck.

"No!" gasped Anakin. "You've – no. . ." He lay there panting. "I won't stay here. . ."

"Oh, don't worry, General," Kix panted. "I absolutely agree with you there."

Rex finally struggled free of the limp blankets and watched as Kix wrangled the general onto the nearest bed and checked his vitals. "Mild concussion," he said. "Some congestion, probably from blood. He needs sleep, but I'll monitor him in his quarters, not here."

"Good idea," said Cody, who looked rather the worse for wear. He started for the doors. "I'm going to report to General Kenobi."

"Just a minute."

Rex turned, curious. Kix folded his arms and glanced at the disaster of a medbay.

"Commander, Captain. I'll get Jesse to help me move the general. While I'm busy monitoring him, you can get this medbay back in order. Everything's marked, so you shouldn't have too much trouble."

Rex glared at him. "Kix –"

"With all due respect, sir," Kix added, smirking.

He sauntered out to comm Jesse.

"Rex?" said Cody quietly.

"What?"

"Remind me to assign you to the most boring position in the Outer Rim next chance I get. You and the general and his padawan and your medic."

"Noted, Commander," said Rex.

As he and Cody took the tactically sound course and started following Kix's orders, Rex smirked. Poor Cody, the only 212th clone on a cruiser full of the 501st clones.

They wouldn't be meeting up with the Negotiator for a full rotation, at least.

Cody caught his smirk. "And Rex."

"What?"

"Remember you still have to go figure out what Fives and the other guys were doing with grenades."

"How'd you hear that?" Rex yelped in disbelief. This time, Cody smirked, and the gleeful malice in his gaze would have given Ventress a run for her money.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to all those of us who have had to stay awake for long hours, to those who are unable to function at their jobs without a significant dose of caffeine beforehand, and to those who have to deal with us when we've had too much. :)
> 
> The beginning is a bit slow, but it's definitely relevant to the plot! ;D Enjoy!

Anakin slouched his way down the halls of the Resolute, desperately trying not to succumb to the yawns that threatened to split his head open. Yesterday, he had woken up at oh-three-hundred to review tactical information for a short insertion mission to Rodia. He and Rex – and Ahsoka, when she finally stumbled onto the bridge, rubbing at her eyes most unprofessionally, at oh-four-thirty – had gone over the insertion plans with the flight crews and then stood by, checking and double-checking equipment while waiting for command to call in with the go-ahead.

Stumbling into the lift, Anakin pressed the key for the hangar bay and leaned back against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. It had taken command five hours to call back and say they were cleared for entry. The flight crews, by then, were so sick of hearing the clones (and the general and his padawan) complaining about the delay that they practically shoved them into the gunships and dumped them on the planet's surface below.

Anakin supposed he couldn't really blame them. The gunships had flown back to the ship, leaving Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, and three platoons of men in the hot, swampy terrain of Rodia.

Traveling from the drop point had taken a long time. A very long time.

It was well into the afternoon, and the Five-Oh-First had been slogging through mud, tangled vegetation, and swarming bugs for hours, when their scouts finally caught sight of the objective. Sure enough, as Senator Orn Free Ta had said, there was a droid base planted right in the middle of the densest part of the jungle.

Anakin had stormed it, and his men had followed. Ahsoka had gotten tangled in a huge clump of vines just as she jumped forward. In any regular battle, that wouldn't have been funny, but the droids had barely established the base, and there were perhaps thirty in all. It was over in seconds.

Anakin, perhaps a little too tired and hungry at this point for consideration, had laughed at Ahsoka. Although he immediately apologized, she cut herself free of the vines, stalked away in the direction of the pick-up point, and refused to speak to him for the remainder of the day. It was childish, but Anakin said nothing about it, since it had been a stupidly easy mission, and everyone still had to walk a couple hours to the pick-up point.

Stupid jungle trees. Too bad the gunships couldn't just blast through the foliage to reach the men. By the time they finally reached the gunships, even Rex had been dragging. Upon reaching the Resolute, Anakin had gone to report to the Council, tell them that Rodia really didn't need three whole platoons of troopers to help them out, a single Jedi could have done it just fine, thank you very much; and was there an actually important mission to carry out?

The lift opened with a congenial ding! Anakin glowered at it and slumped into the hangar bay. He wished, for about the thirtieth time, that he'd never asked.

Yoda had cheerfully directed him to pick up Mace Windu and two companies of clones from the Ninety-First Mobile Reconnaissance Corps. "Transfer them to Ord Cestus, the Resolute will," the Grandmaster had declared.

Anakin looked at his chronometer. Between one thing and the next, he'd been awake for thirty-eight hours. Drinking caf helped, but only so much. He leaned against his starfighter and braced his forehead on one hand.

"Sir? General, are you all right?" Someone touched his elbow, and Anakin opened bleary eyes to see Crash staring concernedly at him.

"Hey, Crash," he mumbled. "M'fine."

"Yeah, you look it." Crash sauntered over to the nearest gunship and pulled a wrench out of his pocket. "Waiting for General Windu?"

"Hmm." Anakin yawned. "And Captain Rex."

As if in answer, the lift dinged again, and Rex came over, moving slowly. Anakin didn't bother to greet him. They'd spent most of the last couple of days working together on plans, the mission, reports, and supply requests.

"Ship just docked," Rex reported.

"Yup."

"Captain," said Crash, glancing up from where he'd just pulled a piece of shrapnel from the gunship's blast-doors. "Sir, General Windu and Commander Ponds will be boarding momentarily."

Rex straightened.

Anakin did not. "Supply requests go through?"

"Yes, but we'll have to pick them up after we drop General Windu and his men off at Ord Cestus. We've got plenty of rations for another couple of days, sir."

"Not what I'm worried about." Anakin didn't expound on his explanation, because just then two shuttles entered the hangar bay and edged through the shields to land.

The doors hissed open, and Mace Windu strode out, his robes flapping around him, Commander Ponds on his heels.

"Master Windu," said Anakin. "Good to see you."

Because now maybe I can finally go to my quarters and get some sleep.

"Likewise," the dark-skinned man said, inclining his head. "You received my notification?"

"Uh." Anakin glanced at Rex, who glanced at Ponds, who glanced at Mace Windu, who handed him a datapad. Anakin read aloud, "Torrent Company to assist Lightning Squadron?"

"I don't think I wrote it as a question," Mace Windu said, peering at the datapad upside down.

Anakin groaned.

"Are you injured?" Now the Jedi Master just sounded sarcastic.

"We've got to plan for this, don't we?" Anakin groused.

"I'm afraid so."

They stared at each other, for once in complete accord. Commander Ponds stepped forward, glancing sideways at Crash, who was pretending not to be amused. "General Skywalker, it might be a good idea if your men could familiarize themselves with using the AT-RTs."

Anakin looked at Rex. "You want to oversee them, or plan battle strategies with us?"

Rex glanced at him and cleared his throat. "We spent the last couple of days planning, sir."

"Right. Commander Ponds, Captain Rex will accompany you." He waved vaguely in the shuttles' direction, where clones in maroon-painted armor were maneuvering their vehicles out. "Master Windu, if you'll follow me?"

He clicked his comm. "Ahsoka?"

"Yes, Master?" She sounded way too chipper. Of course, she'd been able to sleep last night.

Anakin glanced sidelong at Mace Windu and lowered his voice. "See if you can get a couple of the men to help you bring a caf machine up to the briefing room."

"Why don't I just bring you some caf?"

"No." Anakin shook his head vehemently. "An entire caf machine. Please, Snips."

"Okay . . ." She signed off.

* * * * * 

Rex watched as Jesse picked himself up off the floor. For some reason, Jesse had decided to interpret literally Rex's order to 'See what you can do with this thing'. He'd immediately clambered onto the vehicle and tried to jump it across the room.

"Maybe we should show you what the levers do," said one of the Ninety-First troopers, who was named Razor.

"Yeah." Jesse got up for another try, and a couple other maroon-painted troopers started to show Fives and Appo.

"It's easy," a trooper named Stak explained. "You just push this one to go at normal speed, and this one to go at double speed, and this one to shoot, and pull this to jump, and this to go left, and this to go right, and step on this to slow down and to stop."

"Stak," Ponds called. "Could you possibly be a little less technical?"

He pulled off his helmet, which had 'Some guys have all the luck' stenciled across the back, and rejoined Rex. "It's been a while."

"Yeah."

Ponds looked as tired as Rex felt. They both cringed as Fives sent his vehicle zooming across the room and nearly into the opposite wall. Rex decided that what he needed was a strong cup of caf. Problem. He'd agreed to oversee this, and that meant staying in the room until the guys had finished figuring out these vehicles. "Hey, Kix!"

The medic came over, obviously trying not to cringe at the increasingly hair-brained antics of his fellow soldiers. "Rex?"

"Would you mind bringing up some caf for us?"

"Personally, no. Medically, yes."

Well, he had asked. "It's that or a stim shot."

Kix hurried out.

"Long day?" asked Ponds sympathetically.

"Long week."

"Yeah, same here. Two missions, back-to-back, asking for more men, ordering supplies – our cruiser's resupplying while we're on Ord Cestus."

"About the same." Rex held back a yawn and watched Appo handling his vehicle with ease. Echo tested each control on his own vehicle perfectly. The kid had probably memorized the manuals years ago.

"Hopefully the generals get through their mission planning all right," Ponds continued, running a hand over his bald head.

"Why wouldn't they?"

"It's been a long week for both of them." Ponds replied neutrally. "And knowing how they don't exactly see eye-to-eye. . ."

"Oh. Yeah."

Stak and Razor were urging Jesse and Fives to a race. Rex wondered if he should intervene, then decided that if they were going to be idiots, they'd best do it here and not while they were on a rocky-surfaced planet.

Kix entered the room, empty-handed. "Sorry, Rex, Commander. We seem to be out of caf."

Rex tilted his head thoughtfully, trying to subdue a sudden surge of panic. "Out?"

"Well, that or it's been moved. No one seems to have seen it since yesterday."

Rex knew that there had been at least a few hundred servings left early this morning, and most of the guys didn't drink it much. Courtesy of Kix, who had medically banned certain people from drinking it when not on a mission.

Not that they listened. They were just a lot more careful about it.

Before he could consider farther, Ahsoka bounded into the room and gave a cheerful wave. "Oh! Hi, Ponds! Hey, Rex."

"Commander."

"What are you guys doing?"

"Overseeing training," said Ponds succinctly.

"Well, I've got to go through my lightsaber forms. Master Skywalker says it's better for me than listening in on planning sessions, but I'll bet he just doesn't want me stealing his caf." She winked.

Rex and Ponds exchanged stunned looks.

"General's drinking caf again?" Rex said, a little too calmly.

"Yep. Had me bring the whole machine and a ton of caf grounds up to the briefing room. Well, I've got to run!"

She skipped out, her padawan braid swinging from her lekku.

Ponds thought for a long moment. "I suppose we can last another twelve hours."

"Endurance training didn't cover this," Rex retorted.

Jesse joined them at a limp, an impressive black eye adding to his already unusual look. "Heh, take that, Fives!" he hollered over his shoulder.

Rex realized he hadn't even noticed the end of the race just as Fives replied, "You owe me, Stak!"

Jesse did a double-take. "You bet on me winning?"

"Yup. Bet on you winning to Stak, and bet on me winning to Razor."

Stak and Razor stared at him, uncertain whether to be offended or amused, and finally burst into laughter. An impressed look crossed Jesse's face, but Rex was looking closely at Echo, who seemed a little too innocent. "Echo!" he called.

"Yes, Captain!" Echo bounded over.

"Did you think of making separate bets?"

"Uh – yes, sir."

"Hmm." Such deviousness could prove to be very useful. He glanced at Ponds as Fives came up, splitting his winnings with Echo.

Ponds nodded grimly. "Razor! Stak!"

The two clones ran up, and Rex said, "You four are going on a mission."

"Yes, sir!" said Echo immediately. "But. . . aren't we supposed to be training?"

Ponds stalked around to face him, hands locked behind his back. "You are supposed to be preparing for a joint mission, where you'll be working alongside Lightning Squadron." He gestured at Razor and Stak. "Captain Rex and I must stay here to oversee training."

"Right," said Rex. "Your mission is to retrieve caf from the briefing room."

Apart from a raised eyebrow from Razor, the four clones didn't seem in the least bit fazed. It was a sign of the times, Rex thought philosophically.

"Simple mission, in and out," interjected Ponds. "And –" He winced microscopically as Hardcase vaulted onto a vehicle and went zipping around the room. "You have ten minutes."

* * * * *

Anakin stared at the hologram before him, watching as it swayed, split, and doubled. "Wait, which canyon?"

"This one." Mace's hand seemed to have ten fingers, and two of those fingers were currently wavering between one half of the hologram and the other.

"Uhh."

"I thought you said drinking caf would help," Mace Windu said accusingly.

"I did! I mean, it did! I think." Anakin groaned. "So, anyway, we rush the troops up that canyon –" He gestured vaguely. "And then, uhh. Ummm. Wait, what was the objective?"

"This building, here. Skywalker –" Mace Windu abruptly turned, headed for the caf machine, and poured himself an obscenely large mug.

Anakin trudged over to fill his own cup for the fourth time. Just as he was thankfully pouring it down his throat, he felt a twinge in the Force. He glanced across at the other Jedi and said, "I sense . . . danger."

"So do I." They drew closer together.

"They're near the door," warned Anakin, his mind suddenly focused.

"Their intent is malicious," added Mace Windu, squinting a little.

The door hissed open, and Fives jumped into the room. "Oh, sorry, generals!"

"Fives." Anakin released his lightsaber guiltily. "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry, sir. Um, the training is progressing as expected."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Mace Windu stepped forward.

"No casualties as of yet, and, uh –"

The ventilator shaft directly above the caf machine was kicked inward, and Echo leaned down and snatched the caf pot. Anakin yelped. "ECHO!"

"Sorry, sir!" hollered an incredibly unrepentant voice as Echo disappeared back up the shaft.

Fives beat a hasty retreat before either Jedi could act.

"Skywalker," said Mace Windu. "Those were your troopers."

"Yeah, well, they weren't acting under my orders! You go left, I'll go right!" Anakin rushed from the room, Mace Windu hot on his heels.

He burst through the door, saw Fives disappearing around the corner, and rushed after him. Something caught him about the feet, and he went sprawling.

"Apologies, General!" A clone with maroon markings on his armor jumped to his feet from where he'd been lying across the passageway, and Anakin turned to see another of Windu's troopers doing the same thing across from him.

Mace Windu had somehow stopped before tripping on the clone, and now he gazed severely at his soldier. "Razor. What is going on?"

"Sorry, General." Razor sounded slightly panic-stricken. "Intel said only General Skywalker would be likely to follow, and –"

Mace Windu's eyebrow went up astonishingly high. "Razor, Stak. Inside."

Rex looked up as the door hissed open and Fives and Echo came barreling in, a half-empty caf pot held triumphantly above Echo's head. Fives greeted them. "Objective completed, sirs. But Razor and Stak were taken hostage."

"Hostage?" Ponds frowned. "They're taking this more seriously than I expected."

Rex fetched a couple of disposable cups from the water-dispenser on the far wall and filled them with caf. It was almost cold, but it was something.

Ponds downed his caf in one gulp. "Three more, and then your men will be experienced enough with the AT-RT controls."

"Yeah."

"And then it's another few hours to Ord Cestus."

"Right."

"And then we've got a ten-hour insert mission."

Rex sighed heavily.

"What I'm wondering," continued Ponds, staring straight ahead, "is whether or not we can last that long."

"Kamino didn't prepare us for this," agreed Rex.

They glanced sideways at each other. "Rescue mission?" muttered Rex.

". . . Yeah."  
* * * * *

Anakin glowered at the troopers in justifiable anger. "Tell us who sent you."

Razor remained silent, and Stak shook his head.

"Tell us, now."

"Sorry, sir."

"Tell us!"

"Sir," said Razor curiously. "Are you using the Force?"

Anakin stared at him. "No, of course not."

They reached somewhat of an impasse at this point, and Anakin went back to the holotable, his mind spinning furiously. He was feeling lightheaded and dizzy, and his hands were starting to shake. On the other side of the room, Mace Windu was pacing, his hands in his wide sleeves.

"It was obviously a joint command," Anakin said. "Two troopers from each legion."

"So it would seem," Mace agreed. "And since Razor and Stak were helping Ponds teach your men –"

"And since Fives and Echo were in Rex's line-up –" Anakin moaned. "I never thought the treachery went this high."

"They'll come back soon." Mace Windu sounded grim. "They have the caf pot, but no caf. We have the caf and the machine, but no pot."

"I suggest a retrieval mission," Anakin said briskly.

"Not yet. Let them come to us." Mace turned, his deep eyes boring into him. "As of now, Skywalker, we are at war."  
* * * * *

Rex held up one hand, and Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase rushed across the hall to join him. Ponds was kneeling near the briefing room door, fiddling with the wires. Rex turned to Kix. "You're the smallest, so you'll get into the ventilator shaft. As soon as we set off the distraction, get inside and retrieve the box of caf grounds."

Kix complied silently. He'd come along on the mission for three reasons: Hardcase and Jesse were on the mission team, General Skywalker had already drunk too much caf, and he'd get no peace until the other commanding officers were sufficiently stoked on caffeine. Rex also suspected that Kix was doing it – though he'd never admit it – for the same reason Hardcase was. 'Because it's fun!'

"Hardcase, you're fast, so you'll get inside and free Razor and Stak. They shouldn't be restrained, but if they are, get them to Fives and Echo. They'll be waiting at the end of this corridor."

"Got it, Captain!"

"Jesse, you're with me. We'll keep General Skywalker busy."

Ponds waved and signaled 'ready!' Rex stood up, Jesse at his side, and stalked over to the briefing room door. He clicked the open button, and it flashed red. 'Entrance denied.' Well, they'd do this the hard way, then.

"General Skywalker! We respectfully ask that you and General Windu step away from the caf machine and keep your hands where we can see them!"

"Door's locked, Rex," Anakin replied snippily.

Rex raised an eyebrow. Surely the general knew better than that. He signaled to Ponds, who pressed his detonator.

It only took a tiny explosion to rend the locking mechanism apart. Rex and Jesse grabbed the doors and forced them apart. Hardcase jumped between them and sprinted across the room to Razor and Stak, who were already sidling towards escape.

Mace Windu moved to block their escape, but Anakin yelped, "No! Master Windu, they're after the caf machine!"

Kix dropped through the ventilator shaft, kicking off the wall to avoid landing on the machine, and found his path blocked by two glowering Jedi. He ducked beneath Anakin's outstretched arm, swiped the box of caf, closed it, and flung it across the room. Ponds caught it, tossed it to Jesse, and rushed into the room.

Anakin grabbed Kix and spun him around, holding him with an arm across his throat. "None of you come any closer! The caf is useless without the machine, and you're not getting that!"

"There's more than one machine, General," said Ponds unconcernedly.

Jesse held the caf box above his head and cried, "You'll never get this, sir!"

Anakin released Kix and rushed after Jesse, who tripped over his own feet trying to get out of the way in time.

"Commander Ponds," said Mace Windu, gracefully recognizing his defeat. "Perhaps we can negotiate terms."

Ponds watched as Razor and Stak sprinted out. "We'll see, sir."

Rex and Kix rushed back out of the room and chased after General Skywalker, Jesse, and Hardcase. As they neared them, Hardcase brought the general down in a flying tackle just as the general grabbed at Jesse.

All three of them fell to the ground. The box went skittering across the corridor.

Rex and Kix grabbed Anakin's arms and pinned him to the ground. "Surrender, sir!"

"Never!" gasped Anakin, unbreakable to the last. "I will never surrender! Give back that caf, now!"

"Or what? Sir?" Hardcase asked.

"Or I'll – I'll . . ." Anakin stopped struggling long enough to consider this. "I'll tell high command to stop all shipments of caf to the Resolute!"

"Hm," said Rex. "Sounds rather self-defeating, General."

"Rex?" Anakin's voice was suddenly calm. "I need that caf, and you will give it to me if you value your life."

"Sir," said Rex, gripping the general's prosthetic wrist harder as he struggled. "Let me explain something to you. There are approximately two hundred and fifty servings' worth of caf in that box."

"AND I'LL NEED IT ALL TO GET THROUGH THIS MISSION!" Anakin shouted, springing to his feet. The clones went flying in all directions, and Kix vaulted over Jesse to land squarely on General Skywalker's shoulders.

"General, I'll confine you to medbay for a week if you don't surrender!" he shouted, right in Anakin's ear.

"OW!"

Everyone paused while Anakin rubbed at his ear and adjusted his equilibrium. "Rex, there are four of you."

Hardcase looked confused. "Yes, sir," he said, gesturing. "We are clones. . ."

"No, there are four of each of you." Anakin looked thoughtful for all of half a second before looking at the caf box. "How'd that happen?!"

The box looked normal to Rex. He edged closer to it, keeping a weather eye on his opponent. "How'd what happen?"

"There are four caf boxes, too!" Anakin smirked evilly and took an unsteady step forward. "You guys can have one, I'll give one to General Windu because he'll kill me if I don't, and I'll have the other two. Deal?"

The clones were still staring at him when Mace Windu tore out of the briefing room, Ponds on his heels.

"Rex! Escape and evade!" shouted Ponds, desperately grabbing at the Jedi's flapping robes.

Rex and Jesse restrained Anakin. Hardcase grabbed the caf box and sprinted, and Kix dove out of the way. The instant the box was out of Anakin's sight, he slumped forward, the fight gone out of him.

Mace Windu stopped, glancing around. "Where is the box?" he demanded.

"Out of your range, sir," replied Rex, resting a hand on one pistol. "And I suggest you don't go searching for it."

Anakin chose that moment to tip over. Rex and Jesse let him go, and they watched as he hit the deck and began to snore peacefully.

Mace Windu stared down at him. "Ponds," he said.

"Yes, sir."

"It's been a long week."

"Yes, sir."

"We'll need the caf to get through this mission."

"Yes, sir, WE will, sir."

They continued on in this way, the conversation becoming less spirited as they went on, until they were both only mumbling the words, continuing the argument for form's sake.

Rex dropped into a light doze.

At last, General Windu let out a long, exhausted, put-upon sigh. "Even when Skywalker's unconscious, he causes trouble," he observed to the universe at large.

Rex would have agreed, but the words weren't making much sense.

Kix eyed him. "How long until planet-fall, General?"

"Two hours. . ."

Ponds cleared his throat and tried to open his eyes all the way. "And then three before all the supplies are offloaded."

"And then another two before we can get the men to the beginning of the canyon."

"So . . ." said Jesse. "High-ranking officers don't have to oversee that part, right?"

A spark of life entered General Windu's eyes. "We don't have to be there until the beginning of the mission. Good night, all of you. If anyone needs me, I'm unavailable."

He shut off his datapad with a deliberate motion, turned, and went back to the briefing room. Ponds blinked after him, like something was failing to calculate in his head.

"I guess we'd better move the general," said Jesse tentatively.

He and Kix grabbed the Jedi, hauled him upright, and dragged him off to his quarters. Rex and Ponds followed behind, on auto-pilot.

They did pause, on their way past the briefing room, and saw that General Windu was lying peacefully on the bench, already asleep, his Jedi robes flung about him.

Rex paused outside his own quarters. He had just enough willpower left to compose a message to Appo, putting him in charge of the offloading.

Appo sent an immediate response. 'I'll take care of it, sir. One thing – Fives and Echo are plotting with Razor and Stak. Suggest forbidding them to experiment on AT-RTs until we are in a bomb shelter.'

Rex handed his datapad to Ponds, unwilling to take responsibility for this one.

Ponds sighed and pressed his comm. "Razor, Stak."

"Did you guys succeed?" asked Razor.

"No, but the generals didn't either." With that cryptic reply, Ponds went on. "I'm going to be on the shuttle. If I hear one explosion –"

As Kix and Jesse entered the hall, a horrifying thought struck Rex, and he leaned over to speak into Ponds' comm. "Fives, Echo. If you see Hardcase, stop him."

Ponds looked vaguely concerned.

Rex shrugged. "Training mission on Kamino – bored – some of the guys chewed caf grounds – Hardcase talked nonstop for a week. Literally bounced off the walls."

Kix stopped short. "Hardcase!"

"Oh, kriff," Jesse said feelingly. "He ran off with the caf!"

Kix spun on his heel, lifting his own comm and snapping out orders as he ran down the hall. "Hardcase, come in. Hardcase!" He switched channels. "Anyone who finds Hardcase has orders to restrain him. He's got an entire box of caf grounds. I repeat, an entire box of caf grounds."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a good Friday, everyone, and I do hope this didn't make you tired . . .! ;D
> 
> And for those of you who are wondering, Ponds and Rex simply ignored the whole 'find Hardcase' fiasco and went off to their respective quarters, where they slept peacefully for eight solid hours.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if my theory is accurate, but I have a feeling that the clones ended up imitating their generals' more outstanding characteristics. Not completely, of course - they all have their own traits as well, but . . .
> 
> For example: Obi-Wan is cautious but relentless; so are Cody and his men. Anakin fearlessly and creatively fights his way through the biggest obstacles; so do Rex and his men.
> 
> There are fewer examples from the other Jedi's troopers, but you can still see it in their commanders. Plo Koon is more openly caring; Wolffe - well, he seems to work hard at being gruff about it, but . . . :) Luminara is confident and calm; so is Gree. And even though we don't see much of Commander Monnke (sadly), I couldn't help but wonder if he and his men would tend to be more like Kit Fisto - cheerful and more casual . . .
> 
> Thus, this fic. :) Hope you enjoy it!

Anakin lifted his lightsaber, urging the troops of the Four Forty-Second through the grassy field as they stormed the hill. Ahead of them, Master Fisto leaped and twisted, cutting down droids with every motion of his green blade.

“Anakin!” he called. “Good to see you!”

“Master Fisto.” Anakin jumped forward to slice a super battle droid in half. “I hope our Neimoidian friend is still inside.”

“We must invite him to join us,” replied the Nautolan Jedi with a flashing grin, and turned to his troops. “Commander Monnk! Keep the troops back until I call for you.”

“Sure thing, General!”

Anakin caught sight of a damaged droid just behind Monnk. It raised its gun, and Anakin reached out with the Force and jerked the commander out of range while four other clones shot the droid full of lasers.

Monnk got up, apparently unbothered by his sudden flight through the air, waved a cheerful acknowledgement to Anakin, and went back to regroup with his men.

The two Jedi sprang forward, covering the distance to the Neimoidian ship in a single jump. Kit Fisto pressed the release, and the door opened.

The entirety of the small craft was visible from the doorway, but no one was inside. Anakin frowned. “Where could he have gone?”

“I don’t –”

Something beeped shrilly.

“Oh, not again,” said Kit Fisto.

“Yes, again.”

The Jedi jumped back from the door and turned to run. They’d barely taken three steps when the bomb exploded.

* * * * *

“General? General Skywalker, can you hear me?”

Anakin groaned and tried to open his eyes. No luck. “Mmph.”

There was a short silence before a voice, both familiar and unfamiliar, said, “You’ll be fine, General, don’t worry.”

Anakin wasn’t worried, he was annoyed. Annoyed that he couldn’t open his eyes, and annoyed that the target had escaped.

A familiar chuckle sounded, and a new voice spoke. “I’m afraid we failed the mission, my friend.”

Anakin finally succeeded in opening his eyes. The soft light above him made him blink and lift a hand to shield his gaze. “Ow!”

“Ah, you’re awake.” The cheerful voice was definitely Master Fisto’s.

Soft light, faint beeping . . . Med bay. Anakin peered suspiciously up at the red medic symbol on the grey uniform of the clone leaning over him. “Kix?”

“No, sir.” The clone sat down beside him and checked the readings on the panel next to his head. “I’m Sunny, chief medic of the Four Forty-Second. You’re aboard the _Indomitable._ ”

“Oh.” Anakin digested this information for a moment.

Sunny held up one hand. “How many fingers?”

“Three,” said Anakin without looking.

“Jedi trick, sir?” The medic grinned.

Anakin gave a world-weary sigh. “No, but Kix and Coric always do three. What’s the verdict, Sunny?”

“Nothing’s broken,” replied Sunny, hopping up. “You’ll experience some dizziness and ringing in your ears for a while, though.”

He moved to the medbay door. “I’ve got to check in with Commander Monnk, generals, and then I’ll be back. If you need anything, Skip’s in the next room. Don’t try to check yourselves out, because I’ve already put you in the system as staying here over night. Mandatory.”

He winked and hurried out.

Anakin finally turned his attention to his fellow Jedi, who was sitting in a meditating pose on the next bed. “We got caught in an explosion _again?_ ”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The target escaped, but my men are busy tracking him down.”

“Hm.” Anakin slouched back on the pillows and unwillingly allowed himself to doze off. He really was tired . . .  
  


* * * * *

Captain Rex stepped out of the gunship and nearly crashed into Commander Monnk, who was talking to a medic. “Sorry, Commander.”

“Hey, Rex! Sunny here was just telling me both of the generals will be fine.”

“No serious injuries,” said the medic, checking his datapad. “They’ll be out of medbay by noon tomorrow.”

Rex paused to process this. “What happened this time?”

“An explosion,” said Monnk.

Because with General Skywalker, it was always an explosion. Rex sighed, then stood to attention. “General Kenobi said you needed a secondary team for your upcoming mission. Torrent Company is ready to assist, sir.”

Monnk smiled. “Glad to have you aboard, Captain.”

Rex watched his men form up and head out of the hangar. “I should probably check in with the general before the mission.”

Sunny shook his head. “He’s sleeping.”

“And we’ve still got an eighteen-hour flight before the mission starts,” added Monnk.

Rex saluted, then headed for the barracks. On his way, he updated Kix about the situation and typed out a quick message to Cody. _General Skywalker’s been caught in an explosion. Again. No serious injuries._

The reply came thirty seconds later. _Copy that. General Kenobi crash-landed last mission, so the pattern’s still unbroken._

Rex paused outside the barrack doors. _Next is getting captured, right?_

_Right. I’ve already mapped out three contingency plans for our next assignment._

_What if General Skywalker’s the one who’s going to get captured?_

There was a brief delay. _Our mission starts before yours, so I’ll keep you posted._

Rex entered the room and sat down on the nearest bunk. He was about to sign off his datapad when a thought occurred to him. He almost didn’t send it to Cody, but – he really didn’t get that many chances to pester the commander. . . Smirking, he leaned back and typed again. _Careful, Cody. If we add recent occurrences into the pattern, it changes._

_What are you talking about?_

_Has General Kenobi ever gotten amnesia?_

This time the pause was very long indeed. Finally a new message popped up on the screen. _Shut up, Rex._

Satisfied with his day’s work, Rex tossed his datapad into his pack and placed it neatly at the foot of the bunk.

* * * * *

Anakin woke with a start. Something – someone – was moving stealthily around nearby. He pushed himself onto his elbows and peered at the floor. A clone medic was army-crawling along the med bay floor toward the supply closet.

Anakin raised his eyebrows. “Hey . .”

The trooper, impressively, jumped from a prone position to full attention in a single movement. “General,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the door.

“What’s up?” Now Anakin was fully awake.

“Please, General, keep your voice down.” The clone came over and glanced at the readouts on the side of Anakin’s bed. “Sorry to have woken you.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re Skip, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Skip turned to look at the door again.

Anakin, his curiosity roused, also looked at the door, but there was nothing to be seen. He yawned and sat up fully. “I don’t suppose I can leave yet? I feel great.”

Skip grinned. “Nice try, sir. General Fisto already failed to convince Sunny that he was fit to be cleared.”

“Where _is_ General Fisto, anyway?”

Skip checked his chrono. “Made a run for it ten minutes ago. Sunny probably found him already. He’s got Monnk on his side.”

“I – see. . .” Anakin did not see. He shook his head. “Well, carry on, I guess.”

“Thank you, sir.” Skip took one more look around before running across med bay and yanking open the supply closet. He rummaged around for a moment before withdrawing a piece of armor. “Ha. Thought he could hide it, did he?”

Skip set the vambrace on the nearest bed, pulled a paintbrush and a small tube of brown paint from his belt, and got to work.

Anakin wondered why he had to be so secretive about painting his armor. After all, the troopers of the Four Forty-Second were known for the elaborate designs they decorated their armor with. 

Skip turned his head sideways to consider his work, then held it up. “What do you think, General?”

Anakin found himself blinking at a large smiley face. “Uhh . . .”

Skip’s comm beeped twice. “He’s on his way back!” he hissed, quickly putting the vambrace back in the closet.

Master Fisto’s voice sounded from the next room. “I assure you, Sunny, there is no need for me to –”

“General, if you say that one more time, I swear I’ll extend your stay.”

Skip slammed the closet shut, dove across the room, and was busily and unnecessarily checking Anakin’s vitals when Sunny entered the room, Master Fisto in tow.

“Did he just wake up?” Sunny asked, pointing the Jedi Master back to his bed.

“Yeah,” Skip replied casually. “He wants to leave, too.”

“You can in four hours,” said Sunny, giving Anakin a friendly smile.

Anakin sighed loudly, but Sunny had turned away. He glanced around the room, then narrowed his eyes at Skip, who looked back, wearing an expression of wide-eyed innocence.

“Skip,” said Sunny. “Do you have paint in your supply belt again?”

“No, sir!” Skip stood at attention, hands locked behind his back.

Anakin quietly reached up with the Force and slipped the paint and brush out of Skip’s hands, maneuvering them under the bed.

Master Fisto noticed and grinned brightly.

“Skip . . .” Sunny stalked over to him.

“I don’t!” Skip held his hands to either side. “What, you think I was painting your armor again? You _told_ me you were tired of scrubbing paint off.”

Sunny growled. “You have paint on your fingers.”

“. . . Oh.”

Anakin watched with interest as Sunny marched over to the supply closet and located his vambrace. He stared down at the smile face for several long seconds, then turned to the offending trooper.

Skip cleared out of the room at a speed any jet trooper would envy.  
  
Still holding the vambrace, Sunny stalked out, muttering under his breath.

“Another successful mission,” said Kit Fisto gleefully.

“Uh,” said Anakin. “You do this a lot?”

Kit Fisto leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes, and crossed his arms behind his head. “When I’m here. Skip manages every couple of days anyway, though.”

Anakin leaned down, retrieved the paint and brush, and eyed the closet.

“I wouldn’t,” said the Jedi Master, eyes still closed. “Sunny _has_ made good on his threats in the past, and he’ll know one of us was guilty.”

Anakin had no intention of spending extra time in med bay, but he was _bored_. He considered the problem from all angles. “Then it looks like we need someone else to blame it on.”

Kit Fisto opened his eyes and blinked thoughtfully.

A truly terrifying smirk crossed his face.

  
* * * * *  
  
Rex headed into the hangar and looked around until he located Crawl. The mechanic, still wearing his helmet, was tinkering with the engine of a badly damaged starfighter. One of Commander Monnk’s troopers, who had painted his armor with an intricate design of loops and curls, leaned on the wing, keeping up a friendly, if mostly one-sided, conversation.

As Rex drew near, the trooper said, “So, are you a pilot too?”

“Just a mechanic.” Crawl held up a section of torn wiring, looking over it almost absently before tossing it aside. Then he caught sight of Rex. “Captain?”

“How’s that engine coming?” Rex asked. “Manage to destroy it yet?”

“It’s – already destroyed, sir.” Crawl paused. “I’m trying to fix it.”

Rex tried to hold back his smile and failed. “I know, kid. General Skywalker’s got a

job for you.”

The other trooper hopped to his feet. “Hey, the generals are out of medbay?”

“Not yet.” Rex took a moment to wish that he’d been sent to assist Wolffe’s legion instead of Monnk’s. Plo Koon would _never_ plot with Anakin Skywalker. Rex wasn’t so sure about General Fisto, though. He’d looked _way_ too cheerful when Rex had left the room, not five minutes ago. . .

“They’re bound to make another attempt,” the trooper said carelessly. “General Fisto’s never had someone to plot with before.”

Rex turned to the clone trooper. “Name?”

“Twist, sir. Served with the Four Forty-Second for three months.”

“You’re coming with us,” replied Rex. “You’ve got experience, and experience outranks everything.”

* * * * * 

“Hey, Crawl,” said Anakin, gesturing excitedly. “I’ve got a little job for you. You’re good at getting around unnoticed, right? I need you to bring us all the paint you can find, without Sunny noticing.”

Crawl glanced sideways at Rex, who shrugged.

Anakin grinned. Rex was the cause of _most_ of the craziness in the 501st – well, that wasn’t strictly accurate, but he sure did encourage it. . .

“Yes, sir,” said Crawl.

Anakin held up a small paint brush and twirled it between his fingers. “This isn’t a life-and-death mission. We’re just pranking the medic.”

Twist turned to stare at him.

Rex rubbed his head. “That’s – kind of a life-and-death mission.”

“What?” Anakin sat upright. “We’re not pranking _Kix._ ”

“Sir,” said Twist. “Do you know why they call him Sunny?”

“No . . .?”

“Because he’s really cheerful, all the time. Until he gets mad, and then he has a blazing hot temper.”

Kit Fisto laughed. “Do not worry, Twist. We won’t paint his armor this time.”

Twist appeared mollified, until Anakin said, “Yeah, we got a _much_ better idea.”

* * * * * 

Crawl might have been shy, but he was fast. Within five minutes, he had obtained, and successfully sneaked into the medbay, four cans of brown paint and a whole arsenal of brushes. He then vanished, back to his starfighter engine.

Rex, following the excellent example set by his mechanic, did not wait around to discover what the generals were up to. He washed his hands of the entire affair and went to attend a pre-mission briefing. Unfortunately, Monnk was very efficient, and the two of them soon had the whole thing mapped out.

“Right,” said Monnk, shutting off the holomap. “Let’s run this by the generals.”

“Uh,” said Rex. “They’ll be released soon enough, Commander. We’ll have time to go over it with them before the mission . . .”

With a knowing grin, Monnk led the way to the lift. “Better safe than sorry.”

He wasn’t talking about the mission.

Rex sighed, but followed. On the way down, he commed Kix. “Hey, Kix, are you busy right now?”

“Setting up triage in the hangar with Sunny,” came the reply. “We’ll be done in a few minutes. Why?”

“. . . No reason.”

“Okay.” Kix hung up.

“No reason,” parroted Monnk, strolling down the hall toward medbay. “You know, Rex, you’re a really bad liar.”

Cody had told him the same thing on multiple occasions, but Rex wasn’t interested at the moment. “If Sunny and Kix aren’t keeping an eye on medbay, who is?”

“Ah . . . that would be Skip. . .” Commander Monnk paused, glancing sharply toward the other end of the hall. “Twist! What are you sneaking around for?”

“I’m on double guard duty,” said Twist with a shrug.

“ _Double_ guard duty?”

“Yes, sir. Sunny told me to keep the generals from escaping. General Fisto told me to make sure Sunny can’t sneak up on him.”

Monnk looked at Rex, who perceived his intent, with horror, half an instant before the commander spoke again. “Twist, we’ll take it from here.”

Twist saluted sharply, spun about, and headed back to the hangar.

Monnk marched up to medbay and into Sunny’s office. Rex, following close on his heels, was brought up short when Monnk leaned an elbow on the doorway.

“General,” he drawled, crossing one ankle over the other. “What in the name of the Republic do you think you’re doing?”

“Ah, Commander. Captain.” Kit Fisto gave them his signature beaming grin. “You’re just in time.”

Which did not, in any way, explain why Anakin was using the Force to levitate Skip, nor why the medic was painting a happy face on the office ceiling.

Rex observed the rest of the room with a kind of resigned indifference. Dozens of faces, each made up of two large eyes and a smile, covered the walls and the ceiling of the chief medic’s office.

“You’ve done a very complete job,” Monnk said, his tone and expression neutral.

“You’re right.” Anakin looked around proudly. “I’d say that looks pretty good. What do you think, Rex?”

Rex had no words. He was too busy trying to figure out how he was supposed to write out the report he’d have to send tomorrow about why the Four Forty-Second’s senior medic had murdered both generals. And quite possibly the junior medic, as well.

Heck, maybe Sunny would just cut his losses and kill all five of them.

Skip tossed the paint can to Anakin, who lowered him back to the ground. “I can’t believe you never thought of this before, Master Fisto.”

Kit Fisto hummed thoughtfully, as though confused by this himself. “I must admit, Anakin, it was a very good idea.”

“Sunny’s on his way back,” Monnk said.

Just like that, the two generals had whisked back into medbay. Rex looked through the door to see Anakin shoving the paint cans under General Fisto’s pillow. General Fisto stuffed the paintbrushes under Anakin’s mattress.

Skip rushed into the room, came to a halt with a quick skip – ah, that’s how he’d gotten his name – and stood between them.

“We’re all dead,” he announced, accepting his fate cheerfully.

“Yeah, about that,” said Anakin. “I just realized something. If I hadn’t lifted you to paint the ceiling, I could blame it all on you.”

“You could try,” Skip retorted. “He’d figure it out anyway.”

“It’s too late now, at any rate,” said General Fisto. “Fortunately, we have a mission very soon, so he can’t keep us here much longer.”

“Hey, Rex,” said Anakin. “Could you move to one side? I can’t wait to see Sunny’s face when he comes in. . .”

Since Rex did not want to be in the line of fire, he obliged. Monnk mirrored him on the other side of the open doorway.

The sound of casual conversation drew closer.

“Kix is with him,” said Rex.

There was a brief pause. “Oh,” said Anakin. “That could be a problem.”

The two medics entered the room. Kix’s gaze was on his datapad, so he didn’t notice anything until he walked into Sunny.

Sunny’s expression did not change as he observed the large smile faces that decorated every inch of the empty walls and ceiling.

Kix, his eyes wide, looked from the room to Monnk to Rex.

Then, at precisely the same moment, the two medics’ focus zeroed in on the medbay, and the guilty occupants thereof.

They stepped forward as one, completely ignoring the other two clones. Rex and Monnk waited in grim silence.

Sunny marched passed them, folded his arms, took a deep breath, and, in a voice that would have done any drill sergeant proud, roared, “SKIP! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!”

Before Skip could do more than open his mouth, Sunny continued. “WHAT possessed you – and _you,_ General Fisto! – to go along with GENERAL SKYWALKER’S idea?”

Anakin yelped. “How’d you know?!”

Kix moved in threateningly. “He’s a senior medic. We _always_ know.”

General Fisto looked vastly amused at the situation, and Rex wondered if he had any self-preservation instincts at all. At least General Skywalker had the sense to look a _little_ terrified.

Quite suddenly, Sunny smiled. He looked at Kix, and they nodded decisively at each other. Sunny marched to the supply closet, pulled out a bucket and some sponges, and tossed them to Anakin.

“I’ll let you out of medbay now, generals,” he said. “On the condition that you stay in the office until it’s _absolutely clear_ of those faces. Skip, you too.”

With a laugh, General Fisto moved to obey. Anakin looked sideways at where he’d hidden the paint, and Skip glanced at the paintbrushes’ hiding place.

Sunny’s patience lasted for an amazing two seconds. “GET GOING!”

As they scrambled into the office, Kix cleared his throat. “Just be glad Hardcase wasn’t with them, Sunny,” he said. 

“Trust me,” said Sunny. “I’ve heard stories. Commander, do you need something?”

“Just checking in,” replied Monnk. He glanced over his shoulder at the rather surreal sight of a medic and two Jedi generals, all scrubbing diligently away. “Rex, I think you’re right – we’ll go over the plans with them later. . .”

Somehow maintaining his professional air, Monnk left the office.

Rex stayed. He had some administrative work to take care of, and that could be done from here. It might be safer for everyone.

A few minutes later, Rex checked for new communications. There were two. The first was from Cody. _You should be in the clear. General Kenobi was captured by the locals. We’re on our way to get him out now._

_Good luck,_ Rex replied. Well, that meant he didn’t have to worry about planning for a rescue mission this time around.

The second communication was from Jesse, and had just arrived. _The guys want to know if we should check on Commander Monnk._

Rex blinked _. He just left here._

_Yes, sir. He’s in an empty briefing room, laughing hysterically._

“Sunny,” said Rex. “Monnk’s laughing hysterically. He might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”

“Nah, he’ll be fine.” Sunny folded another bandage. “I think.”

_He’ll be fine,_ Rex wrote back.

_What happened?_

_Ask Kix._

Rex went back to viewing reports, ignoring the bickering from the three in the next room. He ignored it until it stopped, and then he glanced up. Kix and Sunny had left some time ago, heading for the cargo bay to get a new supply of bacta.

Anakin slipped into the room, grinned at Rex, retrieved the paint and brushes, and hurried back to the office.

After a moment of disbelief, Rex put away his datapad and followed.

The walls were spotless. General Fisto was balanced precariously, one foot on the back of a chair and one on the wall as he scrubbed at the ceiling. Skip knelt near the desk, holding a trooper helmet. As Rex watched, Anakin handed Skip the paint.

Jesse walked in. “General?”

Anakin tossed him a brush without looking. “Jesse, great. You do his gauntlets, I’ll do the vambraces.”

“What?!”

Skip held up the helmet, already covered in tiny smile faces. “It’s for Sunny.”

“Okay.” Jesse shrugged and got to work.

Rex didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, he took out his datapad and messaged Cody. _You won’t_ believe _what’s going on over here._

General Fisto finished cleaning the ceiling and disappeared.

Cody replied a few moments later. _We’ve retrieved the general and are returning to the_ Negotiator _. Do I even want to know?_

Rex considered. _Probably not. . . I’ll tell you once we’re back on base._

_Copy that._

General Fisto came out of medbay, a serene smile on his countenance. Rex looked at him suspiciously, but the Nautolan only said, “We should leave now, Anakin. We need to be in the gunships in ten minutes.”

“Okay, we just finished.” Anakin neatly positioned the vambraces beside the gauntlets and helmet. “You know, Skip, I like this quick-drying paint.”

“Yeah.” Skip hopped to his feet. “He’ll _never_ have time to wash this off before suiting up for the mission.”

“Wait,” said Jesse suspiciously. “He didn’t know we were doing this?”

General Fisto laughed and waltzed out of the room. Anakin shoved the paint into Skip’s hands. “Okay, get this put away and then get to the gunships.”

Skip saluted and left.

Jesse still looked like he was ten steps behind. “General . . .”

“Yeah?” Anakin glanced over his shoulder on his way out the door. “Hey, Rex, you coming or what?”

He vanished.

Jesse blinked after him.

Rex moved to the medbay door and looked in. A single, enormous smile face was painted over the storage closet doors. Jesse peered over his shoulder. “Captain, did _General Fisto_ do that?”

Rex just looked at him. “Yeah.”

They headed for the hangar bay in silence and got onto the gunship. Crash spoke through the ship’s speaker system. “Hang on, guys, this’ll be a little bumpy.”

As they took off, Rex looked over his men. “Be careful out there. You really don’t want to end up in medbay,” he said enigmatically. “Not today.”

General Skywalker snorted with laughter.

When they reached the drop point, the doors sprang open. General Skywalker hopped out without looking and crashed directly into Sunny, who had his helmet tucked under one arm. He was, indeed, wearing the gauntlets and vambraces, and he had a look in his eyes that could have made an ARC back down. Not General Skywalker, though.

“Hey, Sunny,” he said.

“General.” Sunny’s voice was oddly serene. “You’d better hope you don’t get injured out there today.”

He put his helmet on and went to join the Commander. Monnk glanced at him and did a double-take, but wisely said nothing. Rex observed that General Fisto and Skip had positioned themselves across the platoon from the medic.

Fives and Echo joined Rex. “Ready to go, sir!” said Echo enthusiastically. 

“Yeah,” said Fives. “We’ll finish this mission in no time.”

Rex nodded to them and fell in behind General Skywalker. He didn’t dare speak. His mind kept returning to the way Kix and Sunny had looked when they first walked in.

Monnk opened a private channel to his helmet. “You realize I am going to have to separate my medics for the next week,” he said.

Rex snorted. “You think you’ve got a problem. _I’m_ going to have to keep General Skywalker from giving the rest of the guys any ideas.”

Monnk waved his men forward. “Yeah, and you’ve got a padawan to deal with.”

“Honestly, I’m more worried about General Fisto talking to General Kenobi. . .”

The idea was too horrible to contemplate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kix is listed as a field medic on Wookiepedia, but because he is also the only medic we see in the 501st, I decided to make him the senior medic. :)
> 
> Who should meet up (and wreak havoc) with the 501st next: Plo Koon and Wolffe, Luminara Unduli and Gree, or Aayla Secura and Bly? :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize to all those who voted for Aayla and Bly. I was intending to post it next, since I believe Aayla and Bly outdid Wolffe and Plo Koon by one vote, but I've not been able to come up with a really good story yet. And so, presuming that you'd rather have an update regardless (after this long!), I'm putting up the Wolffe and Plo Koon story. I hope you guys like it, and I'll continue working at Aayla and Bly's! :)

Cody glanced across the large room, located a lone droid, and shot it. He reloaded his gun, shot another droid, wondered if Wolffe was just as bored as he was, and strolled after General Kenobi.

A group of four battle droids clanked into the room from a corridor behind Obi-Wan, and Cody considered shooting them. He decided to conserve his ammo instead. The general had it handled.

As a matter of fact, he very much suspected that Obi-Wan not only had it handled, but was taking the opportunity to practice a number of fancy and completely unnecessary lightsaber moves. Cody watched as the Jedi Master spun, twirled, and leaped across the room, ending in a flashing kata before decapitating a single droid that stood in front of him.

He didn't appear to notice the other four droids.

"Kill the Jedi!" honked the lead battle droid, aiming its gun.

Cody spared it a casual look.

Obi-Wan performed a backflip, missing the ceiling by mere inches, and landed behind the four droids. Swinging his lightsaber in a series of dizzying, flashy motions, he tossed it, caught it behind his back, sidestepped three lasers, blocked the fourth – and then used the Force to blast all the droids into the wall.

Cody raised a judgmental eyebrow. So – what exactly had the whole buildup with the lightsaber been for?

"Are we done here, General?"

"I suppose." Obi-Wan, despite all the running around he'd been doing, hadn't even broken a sweat. "Where are Wolffe and Plo Koon?"

Cody tapped the side of his helmet. "Wolffe, how you doing?"

 _"Two kills,"_ sighed his fellow commander. _"General Plo is – showing off."_

The deep, rumbling voice of the Kel Dor general cut in, sounding rather guilty. _"I am doing no such thing, Commander."_

"We'll meet you at your end," Cody decided.

Obi-Wan brushed fastidiously at his tunic, removing bits of dust and metal. "We finished before Master Plo, I take it."

Cody took point and decided not to say that, had Obi-Wan decided to fight in his usual efficient manner, they _could_ have finished about five minutes earlier. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. All that remains is to destroy the outpost, then."

Cody pressed the door control and peered into the next room.

Wolffe was slouched against the wall, one pistol half-raised as he watched General Koon leaping about amidst a group of a dozen droids. He looked slowly over at Cody and shrugged, as though to say, "What can I do?"

Cody joined him, leaving General Kenobi to join in the – well, he couldn't really call it a battle. . . He frowned, gesturing at Plo Koon. "Did he just miss that droid on purpose?"

"Oh, yeah. _Again_." Wolffe aimed carefully and shot past his general between one swing of the lightsaber and the next. The droid toppled over, and Plo Koon stared at it in what might have been disappointment. It was hard to be sure with the mask, but the slouched shoulders were a pretty universal giveaway.

Over the next three minutes, the Jedi wasted their time fooling around with overly fancy moves and blocks. Cody took the opportunity to catch up with Wolffe on various bits of GAR gossip and news. Stone and Thire had gone on a joint mission with Wolfpack recently. Apparently Fox had broken protocol and mouthed off to a senator before stunning him. _During_ a mission.

Cody experienced a brief moment of disbelief. "Was Stone sure?"

"He swore up and down that he'd been standing _right there_ ," Wolffe said, stepping back to let a decapitated droid sail past him. "I asked Fox about it, but he told me it was classified."

Cody snorted – Fox had a habit of classifying things that he didn't want his fellow commanders to know – and checked his chronometer. "We're still well within the time parameters," he commented. "We've got another three hours before pickup."

The commanders watched in disbelieving silence as Obi-Wan and Plo Koon teamed up on the last, helpless B1. Plo Koon soared over its head, landing behind it and whirling about while Obi-Wan kept the droid busy by carefully deflecting each of its laser shots into one of the surrounding computer terminals.

Cody counted them down in his head. _Four . . . three . . . two . . . one._

The last terminal screen flickered out, and General Kenobi pirouetted, bouncing the next laser shot to Plo, who deflected it back.

Wolffe sighed and pulled out his datapad. Even though Wolffe's helmet was the same blank mask it had always been, Cody could tell that he was rolling his eyes. To be fair, even a non-clone would have known.

Presumably, that was Wolffe's point.

Not that either of the Jedi seemed to notice.

Cody watched over Wolffe's shoulder as the 104th's commander spent a few moments authorizing a requisition form for grenades.

That completed, Wolffe put away his datapad. The two commanders looked up in time to see General Kenobi miss the laser as it came back toward him for the eighth time.

The droid had been standing motionless, with the exception of its swiveling head, and now raised its gun again. "Surrender, Republic dogs!"

The two generals lunged forward, one from each side, the tips of their lightsabers nearly brushing each other as they sliced the droid in half.

Cody had known from the beginning that certain Jedi – Anakin and Ahsoka, for example – were inclined to behave as though skirmishes were simply opportunities to test their abilities. He should probably have realized that Anakin had inherited his talent for treating danger in a cavalier fashion from _someone._

He glared pointedly at that someone, who had just deactivated his lightsaber and who, as usual, remained blissfully and deliberately ignorant of his commander's temporary sour mood.

"General," said Wolffe, not bothering to disguise the impatience in his tone. "Are you finished, sir?"

"I believe so," the Kel Dor replied, turning to his fellow Council Member. "Master Kenobi, your deflection skills have increased since our last attempt."

"I've been practicing," Obi-Wan replied. "What did I make it to last time? Five?"

"Yes, it was five."

Cody stared thoughtfully at General Kenobi. He might have to do a little snooping around when he got back to find out where, how, and with whom the general had been practicing. Probably General Skywalker. _Treating lasers like bolo-balls. Honestly._

"Generals," he said. "We should probably set the explosives now."

"Yes, all right, Cody," Obi-Wan replied, sounding disappointed. "I don't suppose there are any more droids around."

"No, sir." Cody kept his tone politely neutral and resolved to kill any droids he came across. He glanced at Wolffe, who gave a firm nod.

The generals came over to view Cody's holomap. The outpost was a tower. Nothing too difficult to destroy.

"Hm," said Obi-Wan, pointing to the top. "I'll take the high ground."

"I'll take the basement," Plo Koon rumbled.

Which left Cody and Wolffe with the second and third floors. They set off quickly, separating as they reached the main corridor. A few droids stood about, but Cody shot them before Obi-Wan could so much as ignite his lightsaber.

"Cody. . ."

Cody knelt to place his explosives. "Yes, sir?"

"Never mind." Obi-Wan sprinted off, probably hoping there were droids left in the top level. There weren't – Wolffe had cleared that area already – but Cody saw no pressing need to inform his general of the situation.

* * *

Cody entered the hall to see Wolffe and Plo Koon waiting. Good. Mission objectives complete _._ Now, they just had to wait for General Kenobi, and then they could spend a few hours hanging around and waiting for their shuttle.

He wondered why they'd been given such a large time-frame.

When five minutes had passed with no sign of Obi-Wan, Cody commed him. "Sir, are you finished with the explosives?"

 _"Explosives?"_ Obi-Wan laughed. _"I finished with those ages ago."_

Cody found this concerning. "Are you coming back to the rendezvous?"

_"Rendezvous?"_

"Sir?" Cody stared at his comlink. "Are you all right?"

_"All right?"_

Plo Koon stroked his mask. "There is . . . a disturbance in the Force. I suggest we locate Obi-Wan."

They entered the lift and rode to the top floor in silence. The doors sprang open to reveal a small room. Obi-Wan had his lightsaber out and was absently scoring the walls with it.

Plo Koon stepped forward. "Obi-Wan."

"YES?" The famed Jedi negotiator swung about to face them, deactivating his lightsaber and clipping it to his belt. "Ah, it's my old friend Plo Koon! So good to see you, my old friend Plo Koon! And – Wolffe, is it?"

Wolffe tilted his head in Cody's direction, pulled out a medical scanner, and sauntered over to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan pulled back. "What's that?"

"Nothing," said Wolffe, and proceeded to scan him.

"Very well, then. Cody, what _are_ you doing here?"

"Just checking up on the mission, sir." Cody wondered why Wolffe had a medical scanner in the first place.

"Mission?" Obi-Wan smiled blandly. "Ah, yes. The droids."

Maybe checking the charges Obi-Wan had set would be in everyone's best interests. Cody headed over to the explosives.

"Wolffe?" Plo Koon prompted.

"It looks like he's breathed in a compound that is, uh, affecting his brain . . ."

Of course, because why not? Force forbid they ever have a normal, danger-free mission. Cody sighed. _Why is it always General Kenobi?_

Wolffe glanced around, then pointed at a small opening in the wall. "It must have been a trap. The gas is deadly to Plutonians, but not to humans."

"How long will he be suffering the effects?" the Kel Dor asked, while Obi-Wan hummed in the background.

"Best estimate, two to four hours," Wolffe replied with a shrug.

"Hmmm." Plo Koon turned to lead the way out of the room. "Marvelous."

Cody, who'd just finished resetting the thirty-minute countdown on the charge to a three-hour countdown, was inclined to agree.

* * *

It had been a very long two hours. Plo Koon had wisely determined that they stay inside, out of the freezing cold, until the gunship arrived. After half an hour or so, he had decided to meditate, and now he sat peaceably at one side of the room, long hands folded in his lap.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, on the other hand, had talked incessantly. After the first hour, Cody and Wolffe finally arranged to take it in turns to answer him, in the shortest phrases possible. Cody was tired of talking, and General Kenobi seemed happy with any answer, regardless of what it was.

Now, Obi-Wan stopped his discourse on crystal caves – Cody had zoned out a few minutes ago – turned to face them, and demanded, "Why are we standing here?"

"Because," said Cody.

"Well, I suppose that makes sense." The Jedi general paced to the other side of the room. "Why are the walls white?"

"Because," said Wolffe, barely glancing up.

"Ah, I see. Why is Plo Koon meditating at a time like this?"

Cody let out a faint sigh. "Because."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard. "That is sound reasoning. Maybe I should try meditating." He dropped into a cross-legged position, folded his hands, closed his eyes, and drew in a very loud breath. His eyes sprang open, and he beamed at them. "Well, that was refreshing. Wolffe, what are you doing?"

Wolffe rolled his eyes.

Obi-Wan stared at him, obviously concerned. "My dear commander, your eyes are going to get stuck like that."

"Trust me," muttered Cody, in a rare unprofessional mood. "It's his default expression."

Wolffe tried to elbow him. Cody sidestepped, and Wolffe's elbow hit the wall with a loud _crack._

"Don't fight, padawans," admonished Obi-Wan. "Jedi must not form attachments."

"Ahhh. . ." Cody stared at him in consternation. "I'm your commander, not a padawan."

Obi-Wan was busy observing a loose thread on his tunic. "As you wish, Anakin."

Cody straightened. "I am _not_ General Skywalker."

"Yes, yes, if you insist."

While Wolffe choked on his own hilarity, Cody stared meaningfully at him. It was really, _really_ not funny.

Plo Koon finally had the decency to open his eyes and join the conversation. "We will be leaving soon, Obi-Wan. Once we return to Coruscant –"

"Coruscant!" Obi-Wan sniffed disdainfully. "I don't expect there's anything useful for us to do there. Or anything important."

Plo Koon paused. "The Jedi Temple is there."

"Yes, I suppose we should visit soon. It's been a while."

 _It's been four standard days._ Cody wisely kept his mouth shut.

General Koon, on the other hand, was implacable. "Coruscant is the Republic capital, Obi-Wan. The Senate is there. That is important."

"Hm, well. The Senate is particularly useless to us at this time. And as for the senators themselves –"

 _Dangerous territory!_ Cody's mind went to red alert, and he attempted to steer the conversation. "Senator Amidala is very helpful, sir."

Obi-Wan blinked a few times, as though his thought process had been derailed, before finally nodding. "Yes, she's quite grown up now. I met her when she was fourteen, you know."

Cody did not know.

"Senator Burtoni, on the other hand. . ." Obi-Wan shook his head. "Kaminoans really are the most frightful beings at times."

At this point, Plo Koon apparently decided it was safer to go back to meditating, for he closed his eyes, selfishly leaving the two commanders to sort Obi-Wan out.

"General –!" protested Wolffe, eyes wide with alarm.

Plo Koon pretended not to hear him.

"As for Senator Orn Free Taa," Obi-Wan went on loudly.

Cody repressed the urge to cover his ears.

Wolffe turned to Obi-Wan. "General –!"

"Curiously, he is the only fat Twi'lek I've ever come across," finished Obi-Wan calmly. "As a matter of fact, I think it safe to say that he is quite the bulbous old sack."

Wolffe stared at Cody.

Cody stared at the ground. _Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh . . . !_

Wolffe laughed. "If Fox could hear this –"

"Wolffe!" hissed Cody, attempting to force his expression into something more suited to the occasion. A severe frown should do it.

It was too late.

Obi-Wan bounded upright. "Commander Fox? I recently spoke with him, some years back! Do you know, he stunned Senator Twill. I was quite shocked."

If Cody didn't already know that Wolffe's name had come from his tenacious nature, he'd now have reason to suspect that it came from the alert demeanor that he showed as Obi-Wan spoke. Or perhaps the fact that his ears had _literally_ pricked up. Or even the predatory gleam in his eyes as he realized that _here_ was blackmail material to use on Fox.

"Wolffe," Cody gritted out.

General Kenobi looked between them and shook his head. "Dear me, Cody, you're not being very friendly."

 _Oh,_ now _he recognizes me._

Obi-Wan smiled. "Wolffe didn't shoot Twill, Fox did. And besides, Twill deserved it."

"Really, sir?" Wolffe's voice was quietly curious.

Cody smacked him, hard, between the shoulder blades. Wolffe lurched forward, but his expression was completely unrepentant.

"Yes. . ." Obi-Wan folded his arms. "Fox would know more about it. I just know that Twill deserved it. He was risking something important."

"Fox's sanity?" suggested Wolffe with an immature snicker.

Obi-Wan blinked, his mind visibly shifting onto another track. "Sanity? Fox says that the latest bill the Senate passed is insane."

_Oh, no._

"I haven't had time to look into it, but –"

"Trust Fox to have opinions on politics," Wolffe growled. "The idiot is going to get himself –" He broke off, turned around, and began knocking his forehead against the wall.

"It seems to me that he knew what he's talking about," Obi-Wan went on, speaking happily to the ceiling. "Even though he thought he was talking to himself at the time. I suspect he didn't know I was in the ventilator shaft."

 _The general was in a ventilator shaft in the Senate building. . .?_ Cody considered following Wolffe's example. It looked therapeutic.

After a relatively peaceful second or so, Obi-Wan came over and observed Wolffe carefully. "What are you doing?"

Wolffe rested his head against the wall and stared at the ground. "Signaling the guys in the next room."

Obi-Wan ran to the door, opened it, peered in, and vanished. Cody sighed heavily, sent Wolffe a half-hearted glare, and followed him. "General . . ."

"Wait!" The commanding tone caught him off-guard for a moment, and Cody hesitated. Obi-Wan held up a warning hand. "I must signal the guys in the next room."

He raised one hand and knocked out a rapid pattern on the wall. "That's done, Cody, we can leave now."

". . . Yes, sir."

It took them several minutes to go back into the next room, because Obi-Wan got distracted again and gave a lecture, pointing out all kinds of evidence that Plutonians liked green light better than blue.

They returned to see General Koon, who was still sitting, looking both amused and guilty as Wolffe stared down at him, arms folded.

"I suppose I can assist you, if you really think it necessary," Plo Koon said amicably.

Wolffe's usual 'unamused' expression increased in intensity.

Plo Koon got gracefully to his feet. "Very well, then. Come, Obi-Wan, let us see what this planet is like on the outside."

* * *

The famed Negotiator stood half in and half out of the entrance, staring fixedly at the snow-covered ground before him. "It's – soft," he said in disgust.

Rather than attempt to explain that snow was often soft, Cody said, "Yes, sir."

"How presumptuous." Obi-Wan sniffed, took a cautious step forward and added, "It's also white."

Wolffe sighed. Cody stared out at the horizon and prayed that General Skywalker didn't come to pick them up. Something told him that Anakin would be having _way_ too much fun with the . . . situation.

"Tell me, my good friend Plo Koon – is it normal for snow to be soft and white?"

"Yes." Plo Koon waded through a drift, his robe leaving a wide swath behind him.

Obi-Wan reached down and prodded the snow with a fingertip. "It seems rather dense and malleable."

Wolffe wandered away, trailing after his own general.

"Wolffe," said Cody. "What are you and General Plo doing?"

The Kel Dor general actually stopped walking to consider, then glanced back at Wolffe and tilted his head mischievously. "Scouting the perimeter. Isn't that right, Wolffe?"

"Yes, sir. Definitely."

 _There_ is _no perimeter, you traitor._ But Cody couldn't exactly say that aloud, not to the general, so he put his helmet on and set his comm channel to Wolffe. "There is no perimeter, you traitor."

Wolffe made the ARC hand signal for 'negative'.

"So, you're agreeing that there's no perimeter."

'Affirmative.'

"And that you're being a traitor," Cody ended.

Wolffe glanced back over his shoulder and signaled 'affirmative' once more.

* * *

Cody had spent ten long minutes gazing into the stratosphere, hoping for some sign of the gunship, to no avail. General Kenobi was still shuffling about, packing snow between his hands and into some sort of figure. Cody hadn't really been paying attention. Wolffe and General Koon were still walking about, busy 'scouting' and therefore conveniently unable to watch Obi-Wan.

Or. . . something. He figured that's how their logic worked, anyway.

The commlink on his wrist blinked. _"Commander Cody, this is Crash. I'm on my way to your position."_

. . . _FINALLY._ Aloud, Cody said, "Affirmative. Mission objectives completed. Landing zone clear. No casualties."

Anakin's voice came through next. _"I guess Obi-Wan was right when he said this mission would be uneventful."_

Cody froze, his mind hovering between ' _I guess he wasn't'_ and _'General Skywalker's coming here?'_

"General," he said. "I thought you were on a mission."

 _"Yeah,"_ said Anakin. _"But we finished early, and I haven't had the chance to fly a gunship yet, so I thought I'd co-pilot for Crash."_

A loud voice sounded right behind Cody. "Anakin! You're co-piloting a crash? It's bad enough when you crash on your own, thank you _very_ much!"

Before Anakin could reply, Cody – ignoring Obi-Wan's comment – switched channels. "General Koon, our ride's here."

The gunship came in fast, its nose plowing up an unnecessarily high drift as it skated to an eventual halt. Cody noted with interest that the pilot couldn't actually see out the blast shield anymore. He supposed it didn't particularly matter.

The doors sprang open, and Rex stepped out. "Cody. How'd the mission go?"

Cody stared, then put a hand to his forehead. He shook his head slowly, and Rex looked around. "It looks like you didn't have any trouble."

"Rex. Why are you here?"

"I'm just along for the ride." Rex trudged through the snow. "What's that?"

Wearily, Cody turned to face General Kenobi, who was putting the finishing touches on – "General, what's that?"

Obi-Wan beamed at Rex. "Hello, there, blue Cody!"

Rex looked from Cody to Obi-Wan and back. "What?"

"Or is Cody a yellow Wolffe, and Wolffe a grey Rex? Or is Rex a blue Wolffe, and Wolffe a grey Cody? Or . . . do you know, I'm dreadfully confused."

"Yeah," said Cody, in a defeated voice. "I _know_."

"Hey, Obi-Wan!" called Anakin as he sauntered over. "How'd the – what is _that?"_

"General Skywalker," interjected Cody. "The general, he breathed in some sort of compound that affected the nerve centers in his brain. It's not dangerous, but he, ah –"

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin tapped his master on the shoulder. "Are you –?"

"I have it!" shouted Obi-Wan, causing Anakin to flinch in surprise. "Rex is a blue Cody, because I'm older than Anakin and Cody is older than Rex!"

"General," said Cody. "That made absolutely _no_ sense. We should leave now."

"Later, Cody." Obi-Wan brushed his hand away. "I'm still busy. I shouldn't be long, though, don't worry. We still have time to make it to Coruscant and save Fox."

Before Rex could ask any questions, Wolffe and Plo Koon showed up. Anakin ignored their arrival – he was still busy staring at his master with a rather dazed expression on his usually alert face.

"Definitely worse," said Rex, as though reaching a conclusion.

Cody cast him a weary look. "What?"

Rex gestured at Obi-Wan. "This is definitely worse than the amnesia."

Anakin looked confused. "Obi-Wan had amnesia?"

"No, sir, you did." And Cody did not want to go into that whole disaster right now, thanks all the same. He stared longingly at the gunship.

"I – don't remember having amnesia," Anakin mused.

"Obi-Wan," rumbled Plo Koon. "We should leave now."

"Yes, yes, one moment! I must finish . . ." Obi-Wan packed a bit of snow onto a very peculiar-looking figure.

"If I may," said Wolffe. "General. What _is_ that?"

"Can't you tell?" Obi-Wan spun around with a grand flourish. "I'm constructing a Snow Plo!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this one. . . :)
> 
> Here's a question for you guys: do you want a follow-up describing what happens once they get on the ship?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews, all you reviewers! :) Since everyone was fine with a follow-up to the Obi-Wan story, here you are. . . 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy it!

The gunship was silent, except for the sound of Obi-Wan's calm and slightly off-key humming. Cody stood near the blast doors, one hand gripping the ceiling support.

Rex, standing to his right, cast occasional questioning glances at Cody, all of which Cody ignored with the ease of long practice. Anakin lounged against one wall, arms folded over his chest as he regarded his master with amusement. Wolffe and Plo Koon stood in the precise center of the ship. Neither of them were holding onto the supports; both of them had their arms folded; and both of them, despite their respective masks, contrived to look amused.

And then Obi-Wan piped up again. "Are we there yet?"

Cody decided to use the tone he most often employed to quell shinies' eager questions. "Negative. Sir."

But the general would not be quelled. "We must consider," he continued in all seriousness. "Where exactly is 'there'?"

"I couldn't say." Cody shot a look at Rex, who did not come to his aid.

Obi-Wan sat cross-legged, rested his hands on his knees, and looked severely at Anakin. "Why didn't you learn the answer as I told you to, Anakin? I've been gone for nearly a week."

Anakin spluttered. "That was Cody who answered you! I'm Anakin!"

Cody had no idea why General Kenobi kept mixing him and Anakin up – maybe it was the fact that they both had facial scars? No, that couldn't be it. Wolffe has a facial scar too. . . Maybe it's because Skywalker and I spend so much time with Kenobi?

He then decided that theorizing was hopeless, and therefore a waste of time.

"Master," said Anakin, holding out a hand. "Listen, let's wait until we get back to the ship, and then –"

"One must not put off truth," retorted Obi-Wan, getting suddenly to his feet.

And then Plo Koon stepped in. "What truth are you seeking, Obi-Wan?"

"General," groaned Cody.

All three generals looked at him – Plo Koon innocently, Anakin questioningly, and Obi-Wan blankly.

Rex chuckled.

Wolffe cleared his throat.

Cody lifted his comlink. "Crash! How soon are we landing?"

"Thirty seconds, sir. Is something wrong back there?"

. . . Yes, Cody thought. I've got three generals to deal with. One is being weird, one is driving him on, and the other is getting annoyed. "No, nothing wrong."

He turned back to his general. "We'll be there in a few seconds, sir."

"There!" cried Obi-Wan, then stroked his beard. "That's what I meant! There! What, precisely, is there? And is it truly a 'what', or is it a 'where' or a 'when'?"

Plo Koon had never sounded so deliberately wise as he did when he answered, at that moment, "Perhaps . . . it is all three."

Anakin gave him a look that implied future vengeance.

So did Cody.

The ship landed, and the blast doors sprang open.

One by one, they left the gunship – except for Obi-Wan, who was staring into space as though the deepest secrets of the Force had just been revealed to him. Maybe they had, and Obi-Wan would be catatonic the rest of his natural life. It would be just Cody's luck, that was for sure.

He reached back into the gunship and tapped his general's arm. "We're here, sir."

Then he winced. Okay, that was one of the stupidest things I've ever done . . . Don't say it, General, don't say it –!

"Here. . ." mused Obi-Wan, ambling out. "Is here there? Or is there here?"

Rex and Anakin edged away.

Cowards.

Obi-Wan drew closer, one hand tugging at the end of his beard. His eyes focused on Cody, and he frowned thoughtfully. "Is 'there' the end of this journey, or of all? Do all journeys end in a there, or in a here?"

Cody flung out a hand, grabbed Rex, and jerked him to a forceful halt. "You two, get him to medbay," he ordered. "Now."

"But – Cody, I –" Anakin looked around frantically. "I've got to find Ahsoka and get onto that next, uh, briefing –?"

Cody yanked off his helmet. "NOW, General."

Anakin was smart enough to obey. "Come on, Obi-Wan," he said, shooting Cody a glower over his shoulder.

Cody couldn't care less. He outranked everyone here except for Obi-Wan. There isn't much General Skywalker can do –

Anakin's glower turned into a devilish smirk. "Any orders for Cody, Master?"

– except that.

Obi-Wan, who had been wandering after Anakin, stopped short, his expression confused. "Orders? For Cody?"

Plo Koon hummed thoughtfully. "Commander. . ."

"Yes, sir," replied Wolffe and Cody.

Rex snorted again.

Cody switched his comlink channel with a level of deliberate control that he did not feel. "Cody to medbay."

"Medbay. This is Stitch."

"General Kenobi inhaled something that's making him act weird," Cody said bluntly. "Non-fatal, but get up here, will you?"

"On my way."

"I am NOT acting weird," Obi-Wan proclaimed, hopping up to sit on the nose of the gunship. "And I don't breathe."

Anakin choked on a sudden laugh. "Really?"

"The Jedi Code forbids breathing," Obi-Wan told him. "It's non-fatal."

Force help us all, he's going to die of asphyxiation.

And wouldn't that be one for the records. Cody could see the report now: 'Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi suffocated to death while safely on the Negotiator, due to a mistaken belief that his Code forbids breathing.'

He flinched.

Anakin, apparently, was getting the same ideas. "Uh, Master. . ."

"Obi-Wan," said Plo Koon, the first hint of concern entering his voice. "Let us proceed to medbay."

"Very well, but you don't have to be so difficult about it!" Obi-Wan actually sounded offended. He dropped to the ground, turned, and walked right into the gunship's wing just as Stitch entered the hangar bay.

The 212th's medic sidled up to Cody. "Situation, sir?"

Cody waved a hand towards Obi-Wan, who was clutching at his nose.

Stitch stood motionless for a long moment, apparently assessing the others who stood around. Plo Koon and Anakin stood side by side, watching Obi-Wan cautiously, while Wolffe and Rex waited without speaking.

"CODY!" shouted Obi-Wan suddenly.

"Yes, sir."

"WE MUST COMPLETE THE MISSION!"

Cody started to assure him that the mission was completed, but changed tactics at the last second. "Right, sir. Final mission objective is to talk to Stitch."

"I don't need stitches, though perhaps a cup of tea would be in order," Obi-Wan declared.

Cody rather thought a sedative would be in order.

Wait. . . Maybe I can ask Stitch to sedate all the generals, and Rex, and Wolffe.

"No, sir," said Stitch firmly.

Anakin looked over, a suspicious look on his face. "No, sir, what?"

Cody hesitated.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality," Stitch cut in, his voice smooth as ever. "Now, General Kenobi, let me run a scan, and –"

Obi-Wan backed away. "What's that? Is that the same nothing the grey Rex used?"

Stitch paused for perhaps half a second, but apparently he was able to follow the workings of a Jedi's mind, because he looked almost immediately at Wolffe.

Wolffe handed him the scanner he'd used.

Stitch took it, one eyebrow raised as he looked over the readouts. "Well, General, whatever you breathed in – it's a good thing you're not a Plutonian."

Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and turned it on, gazing almost lovingly at the blue blade. "You are indeed correct. Plutonians like green light better than blue, and if I were Plutonian, it must follow that I would have a green lightsaber."

Cody wasn't exactly sure how Jedi built their lightsabers, but he'd never heard that the blade's color was a matter of 'liking' and 'disliking'. Well, maybe except for the red lightsabers, which the Sith seemed fond of. . .?

Also, he was pretty sure that Obi-Wan should not be using a lightsaber at all right now, Jedi or not.

Obi-Wan waved the blade thoughtfully about, humming along with the sounds it made, then stopped short, still staring at it. "A Jedi's lifesaber is his light."

Rex and Wolffe exchanged concerned looks. Anakin cleared his throat in alarm, and even Plo Koon took a thoughtful pace back.

But Stitch was not senior medic for nothing. He nodded smoothly, drawing closer at the same time. "Yes, General."

Obi-Wan staggered dizzily and brushed his hair back from his forehead with the hand holding the lightsaber.

Stitch reached out, twisted the weapon neatly out of his hand, and pressed the activation stud. The blade vanished, and Obi-Wan looked at Stitch in abject betrayal.

Stitch remained unmoved. "You can have this back if you come nicely to the medbay and let me treat you."

Obi-Wan folded his arms petulantly.

General Skywalker looked between them, vastly amused.

Cody gave the young Jedi a look that was as close to pleading as he would ever come. "General . . ." he said.

Anakin glanced at him, rolled his eyes, and sighed loudly. "Fine. Obi-Wan, come on, listen to Stitch."

"Yes, yes, all right, Cody."

No one was foolish enough to correct his mistake this time. They watched with bated breath as Anakin left for medbay, Obi-Wan wandering after and Stitch following both of them.

As soon as they vanished, Cody let out a sigh of relief. At last he could get back to business. "General Koon, I'll get someone to show you to your quarters."

"I would appreciate that, Commander."

Cody gave him a short nod, commed for Waxer, checked in with Crash, told Rex about the reports they had to look over together, waited while General Koon was escorted out, turned to Wolffe, and said, "You owe me for today."

Wolffe smirked. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

He turned to follow his general.

Cody pulled out his datapad.

As Wolffe reached the door, he spoke over his shoulder. "Hey, Cody. . . Fox is going to love that recording, isn't he?"

"Hmm." Cody glanced at the newest requisition form – why exactly had the 501st lieutenants submitted another request for sonic detonators when he'd refused them three times already in the past week? Maybe they thought getting Skywalker and Tano to sign off on it would help them. Well, it won't.

"Rex," he said allowed, denying the request again and sending it back. "You'd better talk to Jesse and – wait, Wolffe! Wolffe, what recording?!"

Wolffe popped back into the room, his helmet off and his prosthetic eye gleaming evilly. "The recording of General Kenobi talking about the senators."

And he left.

Cody stared after him for a long moment.

Rex cleared his throat delicately. "Cody, maybe –"

"That's a security breach," Cody said disbelievingly. "He . . . No. No. Wolffe can't do this, he's not . . ."

A sudden shout echoed down the hall. Cody stared from Rex to the door, wondering what this new disaster could possibly be. Obi-Wan came streaking into the hall. Stitch dashed after him, side by side with Anakin.

Obi-Wan skidded to a halt in front of his commander. "CODY!" he shouted, at a volume normally reserved for giving orders during a bombardment. "WE FORGOT ABOUT FOX!"

"What?" said Rex. "Cody, what –?"

Feeling beset on all sides, Cody turned on him viciously, his voice quiet. "So help me, Rex, I will promote you."

Rex immediately stood to attention and clamped his mouth shut. Anakin stopped, his eyes widening at Cody's tone, and stood quietly as well. Wolffe came back into the hangar, apparently alarmed by the racket, and Stitch glanced sidelong at Cody.

Cody tossed his helmet to Rex, pinched the bridge of his nose until he'd regained his equilibrium, and turned to Anakin. "General Skywalker. How did he escape you?"

"Caught me off-guard," replied Anakin, rather shame-facedly.

Stitch nodded. "He was just walking along. . . Then he got excited and started shouting about Commander Fox."

"Will sedation harm him?"

Stitch considered. "No."

"Good," said Cody. "General Kenobi, I'll speak with you when you've been released from medbay."

"Medbay is for Padawans," replied Obi-Wan, in what had to be the most brazen lie of the day. "And –"

Stitch approached with his hypo and injected the sedative.

"OUCH!" Obi-Wan paused his speech long enough to look offended. "Cody, I really think –"

"I'll handle Fox," said Cody, in tones of sugared death.

Wolffe looked concerned.

Cody glanced over at Anakin. "General Skywalker?"

"Right." Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan as the Jedi Master tipped forward.

The two of them, plus Stitch, vanished again.

Cody turned to Wolffe. "About that recording, Wolffe. Is it audio or video?"

"Audio only. . . And I didn't get the part about the senators, don't worry."

"Play it back."

Wolffe hit his wrist comm.

First came Cody's voice. "Wolffe!"

Then Obi-Wan. "Commander Fox? I recently spoke with him, some years back! Do you know, he stunned Senator Twill. I was quite shocked."

"Wolffe."

"Dear me, Cody, you're not being very friendly. . . Wolffe didn't shoot Twill, Fox did. And besides, Twill deserved it."

"Really, sir?"

There was a cracking sound, and Rex raised an eyebrow.

Wolffe glanced at him. "I think Cody broke my jetpack."

Cody rolled his eyes.

"Yes. . ." Obi-Wan's voice was muffled for a moment. He'd probably been stroking his beard at the time. "Fox would know more about it. I just know that Twill deserved it. He was risking something important."

"Fox's sanity?"

Rex chuckled, and Wolffe grinned. Cody eyed them both, deciding he was above such things at the moment.

"Sanity? Fox says that the latest bill the Senate passed is insane. I haven't had time to look into it, but –"

"Trust Fox to have opinions on politics," Wolffe's voice growled. "The idiot is going to get himself –"

A dull thumping noise followed.

Rex tilted his head, and Cody explained, with calm superiority, "He seemed to think that banging his forehead against the wall would solve his problems."

He did not tell Rex that he'd been considering the exact same thing.

"It seems to me that he knew what he's talking about." Obi-Wan spoke again. "He's head of the Coruscant Guard, you know. Even though he thought he was talking to himself at the time. I suspect he was unaware that I was in the ventilator shaft."

The recording cut off.

Cody glanced at Rex, then at Wolffe. "I just thought of something," he said. "Fox doesn't know the general overheard him."

"No," mused Wolffe. "He doesn't, does he?"

Cody rested his chin in one hand and considered, then glanced from Rex to Wolffe. A slow smirk crossed his face. "Wolffe, send me that recording."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say. . . Well, no, I don't. But I'd like to say that this one was the most fun of all to write. So far, anyway. :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Master. . . It's been a long time.
> 
> Or something to that effect. I finally had the right idea for the follow-up to the last two chapters! :)

* * *

Commander Fox strode briskly down the long, gleaming white hall of the Senate building and paused beside the security lift. Jek and Rys weren't late yet, but they would be in approximately thirty seconds.

He stood at attention, a little ways back from the door on the off-chance that others would be using the lift, and counted down the seconds in his head.

Jek and Rys reached the end of the safety margin, became officially late, and went into overtime.

A door hissed open and shut at the end of the hall. Someone moved away at a quick rate – a female, judging by the faint _click_ of heels and the light swishing of fabric.

What was taking Jek and Rys so long? They were over two minutes late. The footsteps faded away. No one else was around.

"A boring day, this is," complained a raspy, somewhat high-pitched voice.

Fox turned so swiftly that he nearly tripped over his own feet. "General Yoda!"

"At ease, be, Commander Fox," sighed the grandmaster, peering mournfully upward. "Looking at you, a stiff neck I get, yes."

Fox assumed an easier posture. "Can I assist you, sir?"

"Assist me, you _can_." With a burst of surprising strength, the short little general hopped high into the air and whacked at the lift controls with his gimer stick.

"Sir, this is a security lift," Fox informed him. "It doesn't stop on any of the main floors you'd want to go to."

"Tell me my business, you should not." The doors sprang open, and Yoda hobbled inside, his short robe flapping sadly. "On the main floors, to hide, impossible, it is."

_Hide!_ Fox's mind went into overdrive, and he moved quickly to stop the doors from closing. "Sir, please inform me if there is a threat to your safety."

"Evil, that senator is." The little green alien's ears quivered, and he glanced back at the hall.

"Evil, sir?" The doors started to close, and Fox pushed them back again.

"Close to the dark side, she is not, but full of stupidity, she _is_."

Fox thought for a moment. "Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Understand, you need not." Yoda sighed heavily. "Because explain, I cannot. Too confusing, she is."

Jek and Rys were _three_ minutes late by now.

Yoda tapped his stick impatiently against the floor. "Well, Commander!"

"Yes, sir."

"Get in, or get out. One or the other, you must choose."

Fox didn't know what Yoda had been talking about, but one thing was clear. The grandmaster, for some unknown reason, felt threatened by a particular senator. "Give me one moment, sir, and I'll escort you."

He held the doors open with one hand and hit his comm with the other. "Thire."

_"Right here. What's up, Fox?"_

"Where are Jek and Rys?"

_"Got sidelined by a Wookiee."_

". . . What."

_"Apparently, a Wookiee stopped them and is trying to get directions."_

Right, because someone had decided that the Wookies needed to visit the capital of the Republic before officially joining them. But Fox was _sure_ that Yoda had been showing King Tarfful about, since the Wookiees were much more comfortable talking with the Jedi.

And on that note, Master Yoda was humming to himself, looking highly pleased about something.

Fox cleared his throat. "Thire? Tell them to carry on. I'll escort General Yoda, and meet with them later."

_"Right away, Commander."_

Fox stepped silently into the lift as Yoda observed the controls through half-closed eyes, then pressed the button for the fortieth floor.

Before Fox could properly phrase his questions about the 'evil' senator, the threat to Yoda, or the Wookiee, his datapad beeped twice – a high-priority transmission. With a glanced apology toward Yoda, Fox unclipped it from his belt and opened it.

_File received from CC-2224._

Cody always filed reports and requests through Command, so what in the galaxy could this be?

He opened the message. A recorded audio transmission. How strange.

"Pardon me, General." he asked. "This is marked high-priority."

"Feel free, you should, to carry on."

"Thank you, sir." He opened the file, which played through his helmet comm.

First came Cody's voice, sounding furious and amused all at once. _"Wolffe!"_

Then a slightly high-pitched voice with a Coruscant accent. _"Commander Fox? I recently spoke with him, some years back! Do you know, he stunned Senator Twill. I was quite shocked."_

Fox paused the file. General Kenobi had been there, of course, when Fox had finally lost his cool and stunned Senator Twill . . . but he'd also spent the entire mission pretending not to have noticed Fox's action. Why would he bring it up now?

Yoda hummed merrily away to himself in the corner of the lift.

Feeling wary, Fox allowed the recording to resume.

_"Wolffe."_

_"Dear me, Cody, you're not being very friendly . . ."_

Fox resisted a smirk.

_"Wolffe didn't shoot Twill, Fox did. And besides, Twill deserved it."_

_"Really, sir?"_ Wolffe spoke with a level of innocent interest that was completely faked. The innocent part was faked, anyway; the interest was probably true enough.

Something cracked in the recording, or was hit hard. Fox wondered whether Cody or Wolffe had hit the other, and why General Kenobi didn't seem to notice.

_"Yes. . ."_ The muffled voice indicated that Kenobi had adopted his signature pose, namely, resting one elbow in his hand while tugging at his beard in thought. _"Fox would know more about it. I just know that Twill deserved it. He was risking something important."_

Wolffe replied with his usual tone of sarcasm. _"Fox's sanity?"_

Fox thought that perhaps he should bash Wolffe a good one, next time he saw him.

_"Sanity? Fox says that the latest bill the Senate passed is insane. I haven't had time to look into it, but –"_

Fox felt his professionally calm demeanor falter. How could the general possibly have known _that?_ He'd been alone when he let out that snappish remark about the latest 'do nothing' bill . . . hadn't he?

_"Trust Fox to have opinions on politics,"_ Wolffe's voice growled. _"The idiot is going to get himself –"_

A dull thumping noise followed, cut off halfway as Fox paused the recording again.

The sound indicated that someone was pounding his head against the wall. Fox knew this from experience. Stone had a bad habit of letting his head thunk repeatedly back against the wall, when he was so mind-numbingly tired that he had the energy for nothing except, apparently, annoying the living daylights out of his fellow commanders. . .

Fox checked the 'high-priority' message again. There was no explanation as to why Cody had sent this, and so far there had been nothing to explain the priority ranking. He should finish the recording, though; there were only a few seconds left.

The thumping sound resumed.

_"It seems to me that he knew what he's talking about."_ Kenobi spoke again. _"He's head of the Coruscant Guard, you know. Even though he thought he was talking to himself at the time. I suspect he was unaware that I was in the ventilator shaft."_

"How the –" Fox burst out. He choked the rest of his sentence back, but it was too late. General Yoda was looking at him. He wore a placid expression, and his slightly luminous eyes were sharp with interest.

"Surprising news, you have received?" he asked.

"Sorry, General." Fox glanced impatiently at the indicator on the lift. How long could it take to get from the second floor to the fortieth?

. . . And why was the indicator frozen at twenty-five?

"An apology, I owe you, perhaps." Yoda seated himself in a meditative posture, grunting and wheezing as though he were an ancient, arthritic human. "Found, I do not wish to be."

Fox's mind, not quite recovered from the startling revelation that apparently General Kenobi, the Great Negotiator, had been crawling around in the Senate's ventilation shafts last week, looked blankly at him. "Sir?"

"One of the Jedi, the message was about, yes." Yoda gazed off into the distance.

"Sir." Fox blinked twice, willed his mind to reset, and said, "The message was from Commander Cody."

"Master Kenobi it is, then." Yoda looked passively mournful. "Always causing trouble, young Obi-Wan is."

Fox pressed a different lift control.

Yoda hopped up. "To the top floor, you are taking us, Commander Fox?"

"Yes, sir. No one will find you up there."

"Know this, do you?" Yoda hunched over his cane, the picture of decrepit old age, and hobbled to the door. "Trust your judgment, I will – perhaps."

"Sir?"

The lift slowed to a halt, and the door slid open.

Yoda moved stiffly out of the lift. "Voicing opinions about the Senate, a good career move, it is not."

Fox followed the old Jedi, just surprised enough to maintain his composure effortlessly. "Sir, _how_ did you hear that?"

Yoda gazed benevolently up at him, his large ears twitching.

On second thought, maybe it was obvious. Fox withheld a sigh.

"To safety, I must go," said Yoda. "To Commander Cody, perhaps, a message you wish to send."

Fox's mind snapped back into work mode. "Sir, you still haven't told me about the threat this senator poses to your safety."

"A threat to my safety, she is not. A threat to my pride, she is."

"I – see . . ." Fox thought fast, struggling to work out the meaning of Yoda's words.

"See, you do not," argued Yoda.

Fox raised a practiced eyebrow behind the safety of his helmet. "Sorry, General Yoda, please explain."

"Interested in the Jedi, this girl is. To communicate with me, speak backwards, she thinks she must."

Fox gazed at him, stone-faced, and tried not to imagine how that conversation must have sounded.

"Amusing, you find this . . . justified, you might be." Yoda sounded disgruntled as he surveyed the room.

Fox didn't affirm either of his statements. "This room is used by the Coruscant Guard for briefings," he explained, gesturing at the holotable set in the center of the large room. Jek and Rys _were_ supposed to meet me up here to run scenarios on the holotable, but that's out for the moment, so you should be safe. Unless –"

He paused at the thought of Jek and Rys – and probably Thire – dealing with a confused Wookiee.

The grandmaster gazed politely at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

Fox smirked openly. "Unless King Tarfful or his aides come to find you.

Yoda huffed peevishly and whacked at Fox's shins with his gimer stick. Fox sidestepped neatly, for the sake of the grandmaster's constant prop – clone armor wasn't kind to that type of stick.

The Jedi Master huffed again and wobbled away, grumbling complaints to himself.

Fox found himself struggling to hold back another smirk.

Over the course of the year, Master Yoda had already broken two of his gimer sticks, once because Jek had been laughing at him, and once because General Kenobi had lunged, unheeding of Yoda's order, into the flurry of lasers being shot by the bounty hunter group that had come after Senator Bail Organa.

Fox assumed that Yoda had forgotten, just after the battle, that General Kenobi wore the same boots the clone troopers did. "Foolish, that was," Yoda had barked at the unrepentant Negotiator. "Listen to me, you should have."

When Obi-Wan blinked innocently and uncomprehendingly at him, the grandmaster had whacked him across the shins, splitting his gimer stick neatly in half. . .

Fox cleared his throat soundlessly. Once he'd straightened his expression into something more resembling detached professionalism, he removed his helmet and went to the holotable.

Yoda sat on the floor near one of the wide windows, gazing out at the long lines of hurrying traffic and, to all appearances, unaware of anything around him.

Fox eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then composed a message to Cody and Wolffe, the idiots.

He flagged it top security, made it viewable only by CC-2224 and CC-3636, and wondered how likely it was that all the commanders had sliced into each other's less professional conversations already.

Granted, when _true_ 'top security' messages were sent out, they were immediately viewable by all the commander-class troopers. If only a single commander needed to be informed of something, each of them had his own private comm channel through which to receive those particular messages. Fox _could_ use those, but so far the commanders had sent only real alerts through them.

No need to alarm Cody and Wolffe needlessly, though they probably deserved it.

As for the other commanders, though, and their ability to read each other's messages – well, currently, Fox and Thorn were being amused by Monnk and Ponds' bitter debate over armor patterns. Monnk claimed the Four Forty-Second had the absolute best armor painting in the GAR. Ponds disagreed and said that Monnk had no sense of style.

It had disintegrated from there into inventive name-calling and unlikely threats.

Judging by one of the side conversations going on, ostensibly between Neyo and Bacara but with the random inserted comment by Gree, those two were watching Ponds and Monnk's fight as well.

Overall, it was likely that the message he had just written to Cody and Wolffe would be viewed by the others. He didn't particularly care about that, except that he _had_ made that little comment about the Senate's latest bill.

And he'd be asked for an explanation as to how Cody and Wolffe had found out about it, and they'd happily report that General Kenobi had overheard him . . .

Really, talking to himself in the middle of an empty hallway was not an image the head of the Coruscant Guard wished to project.

If he _didn't_ reply, though . . . Fox had never taken a challenge lying down, and he didn't intend to start now. The chief problem was that he was almost certain that Thorn, Thire, and Stone could see his messages.

Then again, Fox thought to himself with a faint smile, all the commanders being able to see each other's messages was, most likely, an open secret anyway.

He erased all traces of the recording Cody had sent him – no need to have _that_ floating around, thanks all the same – and read over his message once more.

_Wolffe, Cody. Thanks for that file. I'm surprised you had time to record it, though, what with being so busy and all._

_Or was that just a trick,_ Wolffe, _to get out of checking the damage report, which, by the way, I'm sending to you again? Get it reviewed. It was the 104th's fault and you know it._

_And Cody – technically, that recording qualifies as a security risk. Breaking protocol during active duty, Marshal Commander?_

He nodded to himself, satisfied. That was sufficiently scathing, and he hadn't let on how much the recording had startled him, although . . .

After a moment's thought, he added one more thing.

_What's with the ventilator shafts?_

He sent it. Allowing for time differences and probable duties, there should still be a reply within a few moments.

In the meantime, he commed Thire.

"Thire? How are things going?"

Yoda suddenly came to life, turning around from his serene pose.

_"Commander!"_ Thire sounded stressed. _"Have you seen General Yoda?"_

"Yes," said Fox, blatantly ignoring Yoda's sudden headshake. "He's up in the briefing room with me."

_"What in the galaxy is he_ doing _up there? Tarfful's been demanding to know where the 'Jedi Chieftain' is."_

Yoda got slowly to his feet, looking highly displeased. "On my way, I am."

Fox nodded smoothly. "Thire, Master Yoda's on his way."

_"Agh, FINALLY."_

Fox raised an eyebrow at Thire's unusual tone.

Yoda hopped onto the closest chair, putting his head on level with Fox's raised wrist-comm. "NOT POLITE, THAT WAS, LIEUTENANT!" he screeched.

_"It's 'commander' now, General,"_ Thire said after a moment, over the loud grumbling of a couple of Wookiees in the background. _"And I think you told me on Rugosa that 'not polite, to be late, it is'?"_

"Late, I am not. Absent, I am." Yoda chortled, pleased with himself.

Thire groaned. _"Then get_ unabsent _, General,_ **please**. _Tarfful and his guard got mixed up about . . . something. Not sure what, but Tarfful's walking around with Rys under one arm."_

Yoda blinked twice, visibly surprised.

"Why?" asked Fox dutifully.

_"Something about a hostage and General Yoda? I don't know sir, the protocol droid can't keep up with the Wookiee, and Senator Amidala's standing here laughing."_

"You're in her office?"

_"Yes."_ There was a crash from the background, and Thire signed off abruptly.

"I'm coming with you," Fox said.

Yoda, suddenly looking sober again, nodded. "Agree, I do."

They hurried to the lift in grim silence. Yoda had just pressed the control when Fox's datapad, which he still held in one hand, beeped again. He glanced down at it. Of course it was a high-priority message from Wolffe.

Casting a sideways look at Master Yoda, Fox opened the message.

_You're delusional, Fox. Those explosions weren't the Wolfpack's fault. Talk to Stone about it, he was there. I'll take the blame, though, because I'm tired of dealing with it. No need to thank me._

Fox rolled his eyes. He _had_ spoken to Stone. In fact, he'd gotten video footage from him, which was how he knew what had happened. It was absolutely the Wolfpack's fault.

The Coruscant Guard may have been _present_ , because they charged in once they heard the first explosion, but Stone and his buddies ducking behind the wall as Wolffe's boys set off explosives for 'testing purposes' – well, it wasn't hard to tell who was guilty and who wasn't.

Besides, Fox's men knew better than to cause unnecessary paperwork. That kind of reckless behavior usually resulted in blood, tears, and death. Or so the shinies were told upon their transferal to the Guard. . . Usually by Thorn.

And Fox couldn't, in all honesty, say that he discouraged those rumors.

The lift doors opened. Fox followed Master Yoda down the long, hallway towards Senator Amidala's office.

His datapad beeped – Cody, this time.

_Wolffe, Stone had a recording device in his helmet. Give it up._

Fox gazed contemplatively up at the ceiling. Cody was cunning, he'd always known that, but this was a new level of craftiness. Cody hadn't been in the system, much less on the planet or in the barracks.

Then again, Fox never made accusations without solid evidence. Therefore, Cody must have reasoned that Fox _had_ solid evidence and then connected Stone with said evidence.

Cody was also avoiding the question.

Wolffe wrote again. _It was your idea to send it to Fox._

Betrayal for betrayal, Fox supposed.

_Yes,_ Cody said then. _And you took the recording of General Kenobi in the first place, and Fox made that comment about the Senate's bill._

Fox tapped out another message. _And the point of this is . . . ?_

Wolffe started to reply, but a high-priority alert from Thire cut in. _Stop yakking with the commanders and get in here Fox right now._

No punctuation – Thire was either upset or running for his life. Also, this proved Fox's theory about all Thire definitely having access to his chats.

Yoda opened the door to Senator Amidala's office.

Fox stepped in. He couldn't be absolutely certain, but it certainly looked as though Thire was running for his life.

Senator Amidala perched gracefully on her huge, ornate desk, while Senator Organa was flattened in one corner and her protocol droid, the one Wolffe hated, lurched unsteadily around the room, calling out, "Oh! Oh dear!"

Tarfful, the huge and fearsome warrior, had one long, furry arm around Rys' neck, and the other arm around Jek's, while the Wookiee guard tore around the room after Thire, who was typing desperately on his datapad, in the middle of composing what Fox supposed to be another plea for assistance.

Yoda hopped onto the desk beside Senator Amidala, who was sitting properly, ankles crossed and hands folded in her lap.

Fox's datapad beeped.

Bail Organa put his hands to his mouth and shouted, at a volume never before used in the history of his career, "YODA'S RIGHT THERE!"

Thire turned, tripped over his own feet, and went sprawling. The Wookiee behind him also stopped, surprisingly fast, and turned, growling something. Tarfful growled back, glared at Fox, and released Jek and Rys so suddenly that they went staggering in opposite directions.

Fox's datapad beeped again, but he ignored it for the moment. As the senators, Yoda, and the Wookiees congregated with the protocol droid, Fox went around the room, collecting his troopers.

He pushed them all out of the room and hit the control to close the door. "Someone please tell me what just went on in there."

Thire, still trying to catch his breath, composed himself quickly. "I told Tarfful that you were escorting Yoda . . ."

Fox nodded. "I was, yes."

"Yeah," Jek grumbled. "But that idiotic gold-plated excuse for a chronometer somehow used the wrong translation."

Rhys brushed attentively at a new scratch in his armor. "From what I could gather, instead of saying 'military escort', the droid made it sound like you had imprisoned General Yoda."

"Ah." Fox's datapad beeped again.

Thire glanced at it. "What I don't get is, why'd General Yoda leave in the first place?"

"How should I know?" Rys shrugged. "There's no figuring a Jedi master."

"He was probably meditating, like last time," Jek added thoughtfully.

"You three are dismissed," Fox said, not bothering to inform them that Yoda had indeed been meditating – at least outwardly. "I'll handle it from here."

"Thank you, sir," said Thire fervently, and the three of them beat a quick retreat back to the security lift.

Fox glanced at his messages.

First, there was a cut-off one from Thire on the channel used by the Coruscant Guard commanders: _Fox so help me get in here anhjm;lhh_

Presumably, that last little bit had been because Thire was frantically slapping at the keys in his attempt to send the message. Fox deleted it and moved on.

Wolffe had commented on Thire's first message. _What in blazes is going on over there, Fox? And the point of Cody's statement is that this entire situation is_ your _fault._

To that, Cody had written: _Actually, I was saying that we were all equally guilty. To your question, Fox, General Kenobi was in the ventilator shafts because the Jedi wanted to ensure that Cad Bane hadn't gotten into the Senate the same way he got into the Temple – which was through the ventilation shafts._

Fox considered. _But why was he talking about Senator Twill like that?_

_Long story,_ Cody wrote back. _In the meantime, General Kenobi is under sedation, and I've got to write up the mission report._

_Good luck,_ Fox wrote. _I assume you're writing an edited version. I will expect to hear the unedited version once you or Wolffe are back on Coruscant._

Cody signed off after replying, _Roger that._

_Was Cody right about Stone getting video?_ Wolffe asked.

_Yes. I have the records._

_Very well. I'll get that damage report reviewed and submitted._

_You'd better,_ Fox replied. _I'd hate to draft you to help with CG paperwork._

_You wouldn't._

Fox smirked, signed off, and clipped his datapad to his belt, then tapped on Senator Organa's door.

It opened, and he stepped inside, pretending not to notice Tarfful's suspicious look.

"Yes, Commander?" Yoda asked, once again the self-contained, thoughtful, almost pensive Jedi Master that most of the galaxy saw.

"The situation has been explained to me," Fox reported crisply. "A regrettable misunderstanding, sir, but it seems that you and the senators have explanations well in hand. I'll leave you to it, sir."

Senator Amidala bestowed a gracious little smile upon him, while Senator Organa looked warily at Tarfful. Yoda glanced sideways at the Wookiees and opened his mouth as though he wished to say something.

Fox stepped smoothly back through the door and hit the controls at the same instant. The door glided shut, and Fox turned on his heel to head back to the Guard headquarters.

He had just reached the lift when a fluttery female voice spoke. "Commander! Oh, Commander!"

Fox tilted his head, then turned to the speaker. A thin, pink female in lavender robes was tripping towards him, her high heels clicking lightly against the tiles. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Will you be so kind as to tell me where Master Yoda is? We were in the middle of the most interesting conversation when he suddenly left."

"He was speaking with King Tarfful," Fox began.

"I know, I was introduced! Isn't it wonderful that the Jedi command the respect of so many races and species?"

"Yes," said Fox, truthfully enough. It _was_ wonderful, considering how many disasters they managed to get into all the time. "Do you know where Senator Amidala's office is?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you guys, but to me, Mondays are always rather 'blah' days . . . especially during February. :) 
> 
> So here, have some chaos. :D

* * *

Quinlan Vos slouched out of the Council chamber, down the hall, around the corner, and tried to move past Anakin, who was leaning against the wall.

Quinlan should have been looking at where he was walking, but he wasn't, so he tripped over Anakin's feet and barely managed to catch his balance.

Anakin was immediately penitent. "Master Vos! . . . I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was in your way." He paused, giving Quinlan a worried look. "Hey, what happened to you?"

Quinlan thought for a moment. "I think I got run over by a speeder?"

Anakin snorted. "Okay. . ."

"It was Fox's," he added. "So I may as well sue him for that."

A prim voice sounded behind them. "Quinlan, you know perfectly well that Fox was not responsible for that little nosedive you took. He wasn't even there."

Quinlan turned to Obi-Wan with a friendly smile and completely ignored his valid statement. "Hey, Obi! New mission for both of us, huh?"

"Yes," said the other Jedi. "Fortunately, our objectives take us to opposite sides of the planet."

Quinlan clutched at his heart. "Oh – now I'm wounded. You still don't like working with me, after all we've been through together?"

Obi-Wan gave him a snide look. "You do realize that most of what we've 'been through together' was _your_ fault."

Quinlan gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder that sent Obi-Wan reeling to one side. "Course it was! Well – I've got stuff to do. See you around, Obi. Ani."

He set off down the hall at a rapid pace, quite pleased when he heard Anakin mutter, "Master, when did he run into Senator Binks?"

"He didn't," Obi-Wan replied grimly. "He thought it up all on his own."

It was true, too.

Quinlan took the lift down, crept through the Archives to bypass the Healer's Wing, and made his way to his quarters. There was a good half-day left before he had to head off for his rendezvous with the Delta Squad, whoever they were. In the meantime, he would pursue some Jedi-related things.

Such as, for example, changing into a tunic that wasn't covered in burn marks from the recent speeder . . . crash . . . which had mostly involved Quinlan knocking himself over with Fox's speeder while trying to re-park it backwards; putting some bacta-enhanced lotion on the multiple cuts and scrapes on his face and elbows, and taking a six-hour nap.

After doing these things, he headed for the kitchens to fetch some supplies for his upcoming mission. Then he annoyed the cooks by swiping samples of icing from the Nabooian cakelets they were making; stopped by the hangar bay to make sure his ship was ready for departure; sent a comm to Aayla asking if she'd caused any interplanetary wars yet and if not, _why_ not; and did a little research into Delta Squad.

 _Looks like these guys are pretty good,_ he thought. _Cool. Not like I'm really working with them – they get the fun part while I have to hang out at a dinner . . . ah, whatever._

With some time left to kill, he decided to go to the Senate and drop in on Fox.

Not that the commander was expecting him.

Quinlan believed in leaving everyone he met just a little bit happier than before he'd come to see them.

Happier, for Fox, probably meant 'not focused on paperwork'. Therefore, Quinlan was being charitable by distracting Fox from said paperwork.

Whistling tunelessly between his teeth, Quinlan hopped out of the transport at the Senate building and headed straight for the security lift. He reported to the Coruscant Guard a lot – most often when he learned bits and pieces of information about the Coruscant underworld, and on occasion he would work directly with them – so he knew many of the clones here. He had also memorized most of their security codes, but there was no need to tell them that.

He stepped out of the lift just as Commanders Thorn and Stone, looking quite impressive in their red-painted armor, marched past.

"Long time no see!" he called.

His voice echoed in the shining hallway as they pivoted to face him.

"General Vos," said Stone, sounding mildly surprised. "Were we supposed to meet with you?"

"If you were, I missed the memo. He flicked a strand of hair out of his eyes. "How's Senate life?"

Stone, who was rather regulation-oriented, was always a bit offput by Quinlan's casual attitude – whereas Thorn, the crazy guy, just took it in stride.

Stone shifted. "Are you here to speak with Commander Fox?"

Quinlan stroked his chin, pretending to think about it. "Is he alive?"

Stone's helmet tilted in that particular way that meant confusion. "Of course."

"Then I'm here to speak with him." He turned towards Fox's office and gave a dismissive wave. "Don't let me keep you."

"General," Thorn called after him, sounding very cheerful indeed. "You might want to be careful. Fox has barely left the office the last twenty hours, and –"

"Maybe I can bully him into leaving."

" – and we've been out of caf since yesterday."

Quinlan paused mid-step. "Ah, yeah . . . May the Force be with me."

"Goodbye, sir," said Stone dryly.

The two of them left him to his self-imposed fate, and Quinlan slipped up to Fox's door and rapped against the wall twice, then another dozen times for good measure.

"Come _in_ ," growled a voice.

Quinlan waltzed in and slumped sideways into the nearest chair, grinning as Fox failed to look up from his desk.

"What is it, trooper," Fox muttered, running a hand through his dark hair, which was uncharacteristically unruly.

"I want to file a complaint –"

Fox jerked upright, and Quinlan continued unperturbed. " – about that speeder."

Fox recovered his poise. "Do you," he said dangerously.

"No." Quinlan kicked his heels up onto the arm of the next chair over and leaned back, humming under his breath.

He could feel Fox's eyes boring into the side of his head, but he continued to hum the traditional Kiffar melody as though nothing in the universe could irk him.

"Vos," said Fox, one minute and thirty-two seconds (and three verses) later.

"That's my name, don't wear it out. If you do you'll have to call me General Quinlan, or just Quinlan. Awkward. Against regs, right?"

". . . Why are you here?"

Quinlan studied a faint watermark on the ceiling. "I'm heading off on another mission soon."

"And – you need security."

"Are you kidding?"

There was no answer.

Quinlan chanced a quick look over.

Fox was actually leaning on one hand, elbow propped against his desk, as he stared balefully at Quinlan.

Quinlan waved imperiously for him to continue speaking.

"Next guess," said Fox, who seemed to have resigned himself to the fact that Quinlan _always_ made him guess. "You've got more data about one of our cases."

"Nope. Third time's the charm, don't give up now!"

Fox gave him a cold look. ". . . You have a death wish."

Quinlan snickered and sat up, turning to face him. "I actually just came here to say hello, see what was up, ask if any of our cases had advanced while I was gone."

Fox rolled his eyes and went back to his work. "I'd have notified you if they had. I tell you that every. Single. Time."

Quinlan grinned, well used to the commander's griping. "You ever think of trading helmets with one of your guys so that they could fill in for you?"

Fox clapped a hand over his wrist comlink, then relaxed after realizing that it wasn't transmitting. "What are you trying to do, give Stone and Thorn ideas?"

"No, but maybe Thire. . . I mean, you _are_ looking a little run-down there, Foxy."

Fox was unmoved by the observation, though he narrowed his eyes at the nickname. "Did Thorn and Stone put you up to this?"

"Nah. 'S my own idea." Quinlan went back to humming, significantly louder this time, and swung his feet absently.

Fox set his datapad firmly aside and cast a calculating look at the closed and covered window. "Hypothetically, how far can a Jedi fall without being fatally injured?"

"I dunno, never asked." Quinlan sauntered over to the window and flung it open, letting in sunlight and dubiously fresh air, then leaned out. "There's a structural break about sixty levels down, so if –"

A growl sounded from behind him.

Quinlan jerked his hands away from the windowsill.

Fox marched over and slammed the window, but before Quinlan could tell him that slamming windows was against regulations, which it absolutely wasn't, the commander's datapad beeped.

Fox returned to check the new message and brightened. "I have a meeting with Mas Amedda in five minutes."

"There, see?" Quinlan said with a self-satisfied grin. "If I hadn't been here, you'd be irritated about that. Instead, you look more alive."

And really, looking more alive was one way to put it . . . The tired expression was gone, anyway. Of course, on the flip side, Fox now appeared to be seriously contemplating murder. Quinlan had seen the expression before.

The datapad beeped again, and Fox muted it viciously.

Quinlan sauntered around his desk and leaned over Fox's shoulder to check the new message. "It's Thire," he said. "No progress made as of yet."

"Just as well," sighed Fox, suddenly losing his aggressive stance. "That means there's nothing to report."

Quinlan pulled the new box of caf out of his supply pack and dropped it on top of Fox's datapad. "Don't drink it all in one day," he warned.

Fox stared at the caf, twisted around in his chair to cast Quinlan a suspicious look, and said, "Why?"

"Because I'm a compassionate being. And because you look like you need it." He thought for a moment. "Also, if I'm being absolutely honest, because I don't want to get thrown in the brig next time you see me."

"Can't do that without a charge," said Fox automatically. He got up and headed for the caf machine. It was half-hidden behind a pile of datapads, which the commander brushed carelessly to one side.

Quinlan smirked. "What, annoying you isn't enough of a charge?"

Fox tilted his head, apparently running through the list of various offenses. "No. But bribery is."

"Hey, you accepted it." Quinlan wandered to the door. "Don't move in on the drug syndicate until I get back."

"No promises." Fox powered on the caf machine. "Thanks, by the way."

Quinlan grinned and left, waiting until he was halfway down the hall before hollering over one shoulder, "And that's why I'm the CG's favorite Jedi!"

Feeling quite pleased with himself, Quinlan sauntered back to the lift. He waited there until Thorn and Stone came around from their patrol.

"General," greeted Stone. "How'd it go?"

"I gave him some caf . . . which means you now owe me your lives."

Thorn shook his head. "No, General – but it does mean that I'll forget that I saw you teaching Jek and Rhys how to hotwire speeders."

. . . _dang._

* * *

Delta Thirty-Eight sauntered into the galley. "Deltas, what's taking so long?"

Fixer raised a confused eyebrow. "Sir?"

Scorch pulled a thermal from his pack, examined it briefly, then tossed it aside. "You only told us to prep for a new mission five minutes ago."

Boss watched as the thermal rolled into the cockpit. "Scorch, go pick that up right now."

"I didn't arm it," Scorch said, but hurried to obey all the same.

Sev snapped the final piece of his rifle into place. "What's the hurry, Boss? We're not scheduled to pick up General Vos for another hour."

"The general decided to come meet us." Boss glanced out the small viewport. The general's starfighter was hovering just outside. The general himself was leaning back, arms crossed behind his head and boots resting on the consol, dangerously close to the emergency ejector.

Fixer glanced out also, then hummed disapprovingly.

Scorch brightened at the sound, looked out, and grinned. "I've heard about General Vos. He's supposed to be good at covert ops."

Boss put his helmet on. "General Vos, we're opening the cargo bay."

 _"You are?"_ The Jedi sounded surprised. _"Looks closed to –"_

Boss pressed the control.

 _"Oh. Thanks, be with you in a sec."_ The comm clicked off.

Boss sighed faintly and removed his helmet. "Let's go meet the general."

Sev cast him a sidelong glance. "Nervous, Thirty-Eight?"

"No," said Boss, somewhat untruthfully. He hesitated, then added, "General Vos has a reputation for getting into a lot more trouble than any given mission demands."

"Oh, well," said Scorch cheerfully. "He's working on his own anyway. I read the briefing. All we have to do is perform recon while the general keeps the dignitaries busy."

Boss, who had read the briefing three times since its arrival ten minutes ago, attempted to convey this fact to Scorch through a rather unimpressed glare.

The cargo bay pressurized, and the door into the galley sprang open.

The Kiffar Jedi sauntered into the room and waved. "Hey, guys. Hope you're up for a fun mission, which – Wow, cool armor."

Fixer and Boss exchanged looks.

"Thanks," said Scorch.

General Vos flicked hair out of his eyes. "I'm Quinlan Vos, Jedi Knight. I read about you guys – not sure who's who yet . . ."

Boss opened his mouth to introduce his men, but the Jedi held up a hand. "Wait, wait, I think I got this. You're the sergeant – you've got a sergeant sort of look."

Scorch snickered gleefully. "One point for you."

The Jedi grinned at him. "Well, that and the four circles are a dead giveaway when it comes to rank markings. That would mean that _you –_ " He pointed to Fixer. "Are the corporal. Fixer, right?"

"Yes, sir," Fixer replied automatically.

Sev and Scorch were both smirking and pretending not to. Boss gave them a narrow-eyed look, which Quinlan Vos unfortunately saw.

"Hey, relax, Boss," he said in a friendly voice.

Something about a Jedi calling him 'Boss' was very strange. "Delta Thirty-Eight," he corrected.

"That takes too long to say," complained the Jedi. "I could call you 'Eight' . . . which reminds me, which of you is Sev . . ." Vos rested both hands on his waist, then pointed to Sev. "You're the sniper, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"And that means that you're Scorch." The Jedi clapped his hands together. "Unless there's anything else, I guess we should get started. I mean, I'm all for delaying, but . . ."

"The mission will take place as soon as we get the go-ahead," Boss said neutrally. "You're here early, sir."

Vos snapped his fingers. "Nuts. Isn't there a chance we could have unexpected engine trouble or something?"

 _"Negative, General Vos,"_ said a new voice in an impressively dry tone. _"GAR shuttles are kept to the highest standards of maintenance."_

"Advisor," said Boss, thankful for the intervention. "You have new intel?"

"Who's Advisor?" asked the Jedi. "Your advisor?"

Scorch chortled, and Sev apparently felt the need to put on his helmet.

Boss sighed at their antics, but then Fixer cleared his throat softly, and Boss felt a prick of alarm. _Fixer_ was sounding amused? That was a very bad sign. "Keep it together, Deltas," he muttered.

The Jedi looked among the four of them and grinned brightly.

Boss shut his eyes briefly. "Advisor is our tactical coordinator."

 _"Unfortunately,"_ agreed Advisor. _"Thirty-Eight, General Kenobi has just made contact from the opposite side of the planet. You're free to start your approach at your discretion. From here on out, I will be unable to provide support. We're too far out for any scans."_

"Understood," said Boss. "We're headed planetside."

He went to the cockpit with Fixer, watching while his corporal set their landing trajectory and contacted the airfield.

He could hear Vos joking around with Scorch and Sev, and he let out another, louder sigh.

"Something wrong, sir?" asked Fixer, in the flat tone of voice that meant he knew perfectly well what was wrong.

Boss looked sideways at him. "I was thinking it's just as well we're starting this mission early."

Fixer smirked. "It's been a long few days."

It had been, too. Back-to-back missions involved a lot of work, since the squad had to obtain, analyze, and use information for one mission, then turn around and memorize different information for the next; plan for both missions simultaneously without mixing up the intel . . . and then, of course, they had to carry out both those missions.

At least this mission was about as simple as it could get. All Boss had to do was lead his squad into the Trade Federation information center and download every scrap of intelligence they could find on the Federation leaders.

On the other side of the planet, General Kenobi would be carrying out negotiations of his own.

Quinlan Vos, in the meantime, would be keeping the Federation leaders occupied at a formal dinner.

"I still can't believe I got this job," complained the Jedi from the galley.

"Why not?" Scorch asked.

"Kenobi's the one who's good at making polite conversation . . . or pretending to make polite conversation while he backhandedly insults people. But the Council wants me there because I've got a reputation as an investigator. While you guys hopefully find records of the Neimoidians' dealings with the Separatists, I'll be in the dining hall, making them nervous by my very presence."

"Sounds fun," Sev said.

"Okay – it is kind of fun." There was a short pause. "Apparently, having you guys along will be easier than me getting the intel by myself."

"It will be," said Scorch, with an utter lack of humility. "We're the best for a reason."

"Starting approach now," Fixer said.

Boss went back to the galley. "You might want to strap in, General. We're on course for the landing field."

"Long as Fixer doesn't fly like Cody, I'll be fine," Vos said. "Thanks, though."

 _What is he_ talking _about?_ wondered Boss, then shook his head.

Quinlan Vos was watching him with a smirk, as though he knew he was being confusing and didn't care.

"Scorch, Sev," said Boss with a feeling of resignation. "Report to the cargo bay. As soon as the airfield is clear, we'll head in."

Quinlan bowed slightly. "Good luck, may the Force be with you, have a great time, kill lots of droids, et cetera," he said, then rubbed his chin. "I don't know if you guys have a special saying."

"Don't die?" suggested Sev.

"That's always a good one," agreed the general. "I'll add that to the list."

"We've landed, sir," reported Fixer.

Boss nodded. "Let's get moving, Deltas." _Thank the Force._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will, of course, be a part two. Possibly even a part three. . . :D

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this made you laugh, guys! Take care! ;)


End file.
